Of Blocks and Mobs
by Crafted Reality
Summary: *Another fanfic about My Craft*. Instead of all the OCs being generated, and especially taking place in the future, why don't we slow down and actually follow someone who appeared in Minecraftia before King Cobb even did...
1. Chapter I

_**Dunno why did this happen. Meh.**_

 _ **I bring all of you, another Rip-off from My Craft! *Crowd goes wild* I SAID Rip-off! *Crowd Boos* That's better.**_

 _ **Anyway, this is going to happen before the time of an existence who was originally witless then grew a brain named 'King_Cobb'. Not exactly in the times of 100,000th stuff like those, but more of the 999,999,900th stuff like those. Anyway, feel free to leave a review of what you think about this ripo- I mean fanfic about a fanfic. Anyway, Ciao~**_

 **Arc: Origin**

 **Chapter I: Void and Grass**

* * *

But of course. The first seconds of my existence just _had_ to just be in a void out of all places... Not even going to bother checking all my surroundings.

But I just _had_ to check my surroundings. Left is a void. Right is a void. Below are void, WHERE'S MY FEET?! Let me dwell on that later on... Upwards, A BURNING LIGHT! You wish! An empty void...

Talking to myself internally - or _monologuing_ I shall call it, is quite an interesting way to pass time. But too much of it, can pretty much drive you insane. I really needed to get out of this place, fast, or suffer the wrath of me being cursed by my own Monologues!

How will I get out of this place? Why am I talking to myself? Why am I being calm in this situation where others would panic? Probably a mind of monologues DOES help you keep calm, even if for just a bit longer.

Monologues are starting to get mind bore-ing and I'm sure I'm starting to develop the first stages of Insanity. I decided to try moving. I moved my visible hands, which work. I tried walking around, but the fact I had nowhere to step on and the fact I can't see my legs doesn't help, does it? Ultimately, I decided to try speaking.

"YO! Anyone?" I yelled out to the darkness. Five seconds passed. No reply. Of course there would not be any replies. I was in a void of all places. Who in their right mind would _want_ to go in an empty, black void of all sorts?

"No use speaking" I muttered which instantly made me call me a hypocrite. 'No use speaking' my ass, but I just spoke. "And great, I'm now berating myself"

"Oh great Master of Monologues, am I getting insane talking to myself?" I called out to the empty void. Once again, no reply. "Eh? How dare you ignore me! The great and powerful..."

"... I'm the great and powerful, Monologue Master?!" I yelled to the darkness. No reply. I sighed to myself. Well, monologuing is getting a bit boring now. "Yeah, sure. Thanks students"

And from those words I muttered, spilled forth a bright light.

_0_0_

Ow. Ouch. Every movement I make hurts my entire body over. I waited for a second, and everything just seemed to fix itself. I feel any broken bones start to mend itself together, and all wounds closing and healing. In a few seconds, I'm completely healed.

Arms are pretty good. Legs are also good. I can still breathe and feel my heart pounding away softly, like a drum- what's a drum? Point is, I'm pretty much okay.

I observed myself. I wore Black pants, and black shoes along with Black socks... Emo- whatever that is, caused my legs to camoflouge in the void. I was wearing a red longcoat. I knew- I definitely knew that Longcoats were supposed to be heavy, but I don't feel the weight that much of a burden. In fact, I find the weight comforting. Under the majestic longcoat was a black shirt... what else? Oh, a red belt, with nine pockets, and also a black backpack.

When I examined my arms, the sleeves of my longcoat disappears. When I stopped examining my arms, the sleeves reappeared. While examining them, in my arms also had tattoos on my left and right arms. On my left was a set of 10 red hearts and an empty bar. On my right was a set of 10 Drumstick-shaped things and a row of blue circles.

The first thing I could see directly of me was a beautiful meadow. It was covered in grass, was filled with trees, and overlooked by a MASSIVE mountain over the distance, blocking some of the sun and creating a shadow.

I looked around myself, pillar-like structures were placed at the distance. I looked behind me and saw a house. It fenced and had a small, microscopic farm of sorts when compared to normal farms, although a glance at the sprouts growing told me the plants were definitely crops.

The creaking of a door alerted me and instantly placed me on guard and I turned my head to the direction of the sound immediately. There, I saw something- someone who had an ABSURDly big nose. From there on, I took the person's appearance.

Emerald Green eyes which shone of wisdom. A brown tunic with long sleeves, and the said sleeves are attached to each other.

"Greetings!" She (most likely from the tone of the voice) said. "Hmm? Your name is... Interesting" She sent me a questioning glare.

"What's that glare for?" I asked her.

"I suppose you probably have a lot in your mind, to name yourself a name such as 'Monologue Master'?" She ignored my question and sent another questioning glare at me. "You do seem a bit shady though..." She said with a suspicious tone.

I personally do not like the tone of her voice as she matched it with her questioning glare.

Before I could even ask how she knew my name, she was already saying something.

"Ah what the hell. It's probably nothing! Anyway welcome to Minecraftia, Crafter number Nine-hundred ninety-nine million, nine-hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred Ninety fourth Crafter!" She said as she bounced up and down.

As soon as I heard the number, I already deduced the words to digits. 999,999,994.

"Oh... That's a rather large number, don't you think?" I asked. "I'm guessing I'm not the first to be placed in the empty void?"

"Correct! In fact, You are the most recent Crafter to have spawned" She replied.

"Uh. That sucks" I responded awkwardly. "Anyway, what will I do here?"

"Hm? Oh right! It's time to teach you how to survive in this world!" She said as she jumped up and down. "Come on, follow me"

_0_0_

"..." I stared at the tree that Helena (the one with the big nose) led me to. It was big and sturdy, as evident by the size of the thing. "It's... majestic, I guess?"

She looked at me. "Punch the tree"

I stared at her in return. "What? This isn't a game called Minecraft where you can punch trees!" I retorted back, not knowing where Minecraft came from.

She sighed. "Just punch the tree"

"..." I should definitely have more monologue to live up to my name. "Fine" I raised my right hand, and gave the tree a light punch. "You happy?"

She looked at me again, with those glaring glares she's giving me. "Punch harder, and repeat it again and again"

I sighed. I once again, raised my Right hand and punched the tree with a strength... let's just say I felt the world shake slightly with the punch I gave it. To my surprise, it didn't hurt and the blocky trunk of the tree formed cracks on it.

I punched the tree again, and the cracks expanded. I kept punching it, until the cracks took over and made the wood 'pop'. It was transformed into a small miniature version of the previous wood block.

The wood was floating. In midair. Which breaks all laws of Gravity and Science... And, it flew into me belt.

"Okay, Good job" She said while patting me on the back.

I scratched my head sheepishly as a response. "It was pretty easy, you know"

"Not all crafters have common sense" She told me seriously while gesturing in the air. "In fact, I know that 50 witless crafters' intelligence could be mixed and can be nowhere as near as yours"

"..." I kept silent while analyzing the statement. "... So its either that I'm smart, or they're just that witless?"

"Of course, smart remarks about things" Helena said as she turned around. "Now punch more logs. Once you get 4 Oak Logs, inform me" She said as she started to walk, before pausing. "No actually, I want to watch you. I know it would just take a couple of ticks to get it done"

I nodded slightly before raising once again, my right hand. "So, what are ticks?" I asked while punching another log.

"Its Minecraftia's measurement of time, or atleast what clocks use" She said while watching me collect another log. "Speaking of which, catch!"

I raised my hands up in instinct and caught a shiny golden disc. It had a display. In that said display was an arrow, in which the sun was in the middle of it. I see it rotating slowly.

"This is definitely something to keep track of time, isn't it?" I asked after dropping the disc which flew in my belt and resumed punching the tree. Another log flew into my belt.

"You know," Helena said while looking at me seriously. "At this rate, I'm pretty sure you have a fairly good chance of surviving this world"

"I like to take good chances for an answer" I responded and checked my belt. "Anyway, I collected Four Logs. Now what?" I asked.

"Well first you have to craft a Crafting Table- pretty Ironic, then make some tools but we don't have enough time to stay here longer. Follow me" She replied to my question as we walked in the forest, casted with light by the sunset.

I swear that the sun was just in the middle of the day a few minutes ago. "Is time unnaturally fast here?" I asked.

"Yes" Helena replied and we reached a barrier of sorts, as with the glowing lights and a glowing dome. "You see, Notch and the first crafters created this place. He made time in this place, and in a radius of 200 blocks fast, so that people wouldn't have to wait for hours just to get their firsf combat lessons"

"Grrrr" A groan sounded from just outside the barrier. I traced the direction of the sound and found something. It was wearing a blue shirt, with matching blue pants. Its skin color was green and looked to be undead.

"That does not look very friendly" I commented as I scanned the undead creature.

"Indeed. It is a Zombie, among the dumbest creatures to walk in the face of Minecraftia" She stated as she took out a book, and once again tossed it to me. I caught the book by raising my arms, again. "Read up before I send you to your combat lessons" She said before she went outside the house and started collecting carrots.

I scanned the book. It looked old from age, the spine was still holding up but demanded caution and gentle treatment. The pages were yellowed and torn at the edges of a page. It also smelled rather old. I started reading...

Thank you, Mr. Herobrain according to the smudged signature, for writing this.

*5 minutes later*

So, what the book told me was, Zombies are extremely dumb. Skeletons are smarter since they have the capacity to use bows. Creepers are highly explosive and damage can be reduced by blocking with a sword. Spiders are rather (fr)agile and can climb walls.

"You done?" Helena asked after she was done. In her arms was a bundle of carrots, most likely meant for me.

"Yes" I replied as I gave her back the book. "Something definitely tells me I should return this"

"Observant as always" She duly commented as she received the book. "It's time to learn how to craft"

"..." I kept silent, before retorting another smart comment. "That's where crafters get their names"

"Tomorrow though. You look tired" She ordered me as I walked towards the bed.

After all, 'You look tired' is an understatement.

_0_0_

"Wake up"

"Huh?" I sat and groggily rubbed my eyes. "What time is it?"

"It is already morning" Helena informed me. "And it's time to learn to craft. But we need to go outside the barrier to do it though"

_0_0_

Once we were outside the Barrier, she started to teach me the basics of crafting and its purpose in my life. After a few minutes, she finally started the actual lesson.

"First off, I want you to make planks" Helena said as she pointed to my pouch were my Logs were kept. "It's simply made from imagining the log being split into four different pieces"

Pretty basic stuff.

"Like this?" I said and immediately, the log I placed shifted slightly, before splitting and forming four refined looking wooden blocks.

"Exactly. Now just place the planks in a 2x2 square formation and imaging it fusing with each other"

I placed the Planks as so, and ended up with a small table, with details I couldn't make up.

"Yes. Now place the table. Do so by imaging the Table growing larger and throwing it in the ground" Helena instructed.

I did so and it became a block sized Table, with a small mat at the top which sported a grid.

"Yes. Now make a stick by placing two planks adjacent to each other"

"Horizontally or Vertically?"

Helena winked at me. "That's entirely up for you to decide"

I paused for a few seconds. Ultimately, I decided to craft the sticks Diagonally. "Nothing happened? I thought you were reverse psychologing me" I said as I tried again. This time I crafted sticks by placing them vertically.

"Good" Helena patted me on the back again (which is still impossible). "Now make a sword, and do hurry up"

If swords needed sticks, then it should have a short handle. One stick would be fine. Now the problem was, what was the arrangement of the blsde itself? I placed one stick at the bottom and a plank above the stick.

Nothing happened.

I placed a stick at the corner and two planks diagonally. Still nothing.

"Eh, a little help please?" I requested.

Helena raised an eyebrow. "Just two planks above the stick" She simply replied.

I placed two planks above the stick... And there we go! A perfectly freshly crafted Wooden Sword, out of the oven, er, Table.

"Now craft an Axe" She ordered and I immediately wondered how to make one of those.

I placed two sticks vertically then wondered what to do from there on. I placed an upside-down 'u' over the sticks, hoping to make a doublesided Axe, but nothing happened.

"Keep trying" Helena told me as I tinkered around.

After a few minutes later, I found out the recipe. It was just two sticks vertically and three planks. One on a diagonal corner, another in the left side of the top stick, and the last on the top of the sticks. Needless to say, I wouldn't be punching trees anytime soon.

"It's almost nighttime now" Helena informed me. I looked outside the window and saw the sun threading over the edge of the sky. "Still, it took you faster to make an axe than most other people"

"Well, you did say I'm smart afterall"

"Okay! Now go and kill some zombies! You're infinitely smarter than them so go give them a sword down their throats!" I'm sure that's a reference to a sex-related pun. "And also make sure to keep your Hunger Bar up" Helena said as she tossed me a bundle of carrots.

_0_0_

As soon as I was pushed outside of Helena pass the barrier, My hand immediately flew towards my pocket, where my Wooden Sword was kept and held it steadily in my hands.

*Swap* The sound of an arrow could be heard. An arrow just nearly imbedded itself to me and was shot just a few inches from my face. I looked onwards to my right and saw a Skeleton, the Bow being drawed back again and aimed.

Hmm... Suicidal technique, but could I slice arrows in midflight? The Skeleton fired another arrow and I tried hitting it. The arrow however, was just too fast for me to see and pierced my right arm. "Ow! Hey!" I looked at my health bar and saw one and a half hearts disappeared.

The Skeleton fired another arrow and I dodged it by sidestepping. I finally decided to rush in the Skeleton.

After a few minutes of sidestepping, rolling and jumping, I finally managed to get near the Skeleton to execute a downwards slash. It was knocked back considerably and resumed fired arrows.

Rolling and Sidestepping were a way to go, but hitting would just knock it back slightly, just enough for it to fire more arrows. By the time I killed the Skeleton, I was covered in nicks and small cuts from the arrows not truely finding their marks. I was rewarded with a Bone, two Arrows and a floating orb, which flew up to my left arm and filled the bar with green quarterways.

I checked my Health Bar and saw that 5 hearts were still present. I also checked my hunger and found 5 drumsticks left. I ate three carrots, bringing my hunger to 9 and 1/2 drumsticks.

As soon as I ate the carrots, I felt my health slow trickling back, regenerating slowly. By the time I reached Eight Hearts, I met a zombie.

I hacked and slashed at the Zombie, which would occasionally get some lucky blocks and get hit immediately after that. I was once again, rewarded with green floating orbs. They flew into my arm and almost filled it three-fourths. I was also rewarded with Rotten Flesh... Not that I'll eat it.

I saw the sun rising in the horizon, and all the Skeletons and Zombies burned, as according to the book. Spiders became neutral and Creepers... are still Creepers.

Better report back to Helena, who was still watching me at the edge of the Origin Zone.

"You had fun?" Helena asked me as soon as I stepped inside the Origin Zone.

"I got two Arrows. Does that count for fun?" I asked a question of my own and took out the Arrows I looted earlier and showed them to Helena for emphasis.

"I take that as a yes" She stated as she took out a couple of arrows. "Some crafters decided to gave me Arrows that they looted so that just incase, a future Crafter might need one"

"I definitely doubt that not everyone thinks that there is something called a 'Bow' in this world, which is a curved stick with strings" I replied, then wondered where does my thoughts actually come from.

"I know you're wondering where that thought came from, right?" She asked.

I nodded. "How did-"

"You see, all crafters have some sense of Normalracy, or an instinct which tells them that something is odd, or something is normal. It is most likely interconnected with your past life, before you got here"

I rubbed my forehead. "What do you mean, 'past life'?"

"Oh. Crafters say that they experience a brief memory before they came here" She replies while hiding the Arrows in a chest.

"Anyway, what's up with these tattoos, aside from the Drumsticks and Heart bars, what does the blue circle and the bar do?"

"The bar is called the Experience bar. When it fills up, a number is placed in the center of the bar. The number varies on how much you fill it up, but it progressively gets harder and harder to fill it up, eventually stopping to a point" Helena explained thoroughly as we walked towards the house.

"And the circle ones?" I asked, intent of discovering the final secret to these tattoos.

"It is the Oxygen Bar. Submerging your head in water will cause it to slowly decrease and when it's empty, it will kill you by drowning" She replied. "And by the way, you ask a lot of questions. I expected someone with a name such as yours to simply ask it to yourself"

I scratched the back of my head sheepishly. "Well, I could afford to ask questions, right?"

"It depends on what questions" She said statically.

Ouchies.

* * *

 **Inventory:**

Mono: Wooden Sword {lightly damaged} _,_ Wooden Axe, Clock, 1 stick, 9 Wooden Planks, 2 Arrows, 1 Bone, 2 Rotten Flesh

EXP: 0 levels (14 EXP)

* * *

 _ **Yay! Instead of other fanfics over the horizon of fanfiction talking about people coming AFTER Cobb or Noman existed, I decided to backtrack just a couple of steps. Not really much to say to this, but I'm diddly darn proud of myself. Anyway, Ciao~ and leave a review or something~**_

 _ **Next Chapter, would pretty much wrap up the First Arc.**_


	2. Chapter II

**_Hey! This story is still alive! Now that I'm just following my heart (and laziness), I write whenever I want to!_**

 ** _Quote of the chapter~_**

 _"If you cannot defeat your opponent, then imagine one that could."_ -Archer, Fate/Stay Night.

 **Arc: Origin**

 **Chapter II**

* * *

There was silence.

Aaannnddddd, Helena broke through the silence like a grenade breaking glass... wait, what are grenades?

"Monologue_Master, it's time to get some more Carrots!" Helena shouted, which admittedly woke me up. Wait, why was I, in a bed? I don't remember being in a bed before, so why am I in a bed? This is confusing...

Well, time to get moving. Helena is waiting at me, with her hands crossed as always, and her eyes glinted a dangerous glare... Not exactly dangerous per se, but more like 'I am soooo going to kick you out if you don't do this!' kind of thing.

She had started walking towards her mini ( _microscopic_ I should add) farm of Carrots. Well, it would be needed to be called a Garden, seeing that she doesn't produce crops for a citadel.

And- Holy... Did she just open a fence gate without touching the gate itself?! That mind-powers is OP. I wish I got mind powers... I mean _mind powers_ that could _affect the outaide world,_ not _internal monologuing._ But either way, it's cool.

"Collect all the Carrots for me."

And, with great gusto, I had punched... and punched... and punched... and tripped because of my longcoat jamming in a carrot, but I got back up and punched... all the Carrots in her _small,_ microscopic farm. In the end, I had collected more than 20 Carrots.

"Now give me 12 Carrots for this, sparkling Emerald." Helena ordered, or maybe more of negotiated as she brought out a sparkling, green rock named an 'Emerald'.

I gave 12 Carrots, and received the Emerald. The gem felt heavy, yet comfortable in my hand, cold, yet warm. The greenish hue reflected the sun's rays, and gave it a slightly blue-ish hue that could go unnoticed if one were not to observe the gem very closely.

It also felt important...

I couldn't help but ask, "What can I do with Emeralds?"

Helena turned to me with a quizzical gaze, her left eyes brow raised which made the unibrow slightly slant and replied, "It is used for purchases in kingdoms and villages."

"Thanks. That was informative." I said. Wait. Where can Kingdoms be found, anyway? I remembered Helena saying 'Don't keep your guard down until you reach a kingdom' or something along the lines. So once again, I asked, "Where could I find Kingdoms?"

Helena paused, then closed her eyes, possibly racking her memories. After a few seconds, she replied. "I believe there are four kingdoms, each in their own direction. _Zepill_ is located south, _Ocean Docks_ is located east, _Lazuli_ is located north and finally, _Exter_ is located west. Each of them is also a different biome. Zepill is a mountainous forest, Ocean Docks is obviously near an ocean, Lazuli is a arctic biome, and Exter is a stone-lava wasteland."

Now that I knew a rough location of all the kingdoms, what now?

Thankfully, it seemed that Helena was able to sense my lost-ness. "Well, now, you need to know a couple more stuff before I send you out."

"Okay. To get started, I believe we must start with the people you will eventually face. There are sub-categories of Crafters. I believe that they are Crafters, like you," Helena paused as she pointed at me, "Jibbermen, who have a scramble of letters and symbols for their names and speak out jarbled messes of noise, Hackers, crafters who have special abilities, and Griefers, who are crafters but likes making the souls of other crafters miserable."

I stared. That was quite a lot to take in. I am a Crafter, just an ordinary existence.

The rest of the afternoon has been spent teaching me how this world works.

* * *

"So... are you going to send me away now?"

...

...

"Yes."

...

"I guess this is goodbye?"

...

"You could promise me to return, thought I doubt that."

...

...

...

"Good bye."

"Farewell."

That was practically the dialogue between me and Helena. Shortly after, I had been sent away into the world, to be free! Well, I guess the payoff is a bunch of undead creatures after me.

And skipping time by a few minutes, and sprinting as fast as I could, I reached the edge of the Origin Zone. A white, almost invisible barrier was placed just in front of me. Tentatively, I stuck out a hand into the barrier. Nothing happened. As I pulled out my hand, something _did_ happen. I was forcefully pulled into the other side of the barrier.

I was thrown into the air and landed on my head.

And why does this feel like some kind of story where a dude was summoned by a pink-haired magician to be a slave? And what's a magician?

Pushing away my thoughts before I become too absorbed in them. Groaning, I slowly stood up, then I checked my left arm, the sleeves disappear and revealed my current health. It was 9 and a half.

I observed my current location.

Location: Unknown, Position: Isn't that the same with the Location?, Significant Landmarks: MASSIVE mountain, bunch of tall trees.

I conducted a general truth. I was lost. And since the only thing that _wasn't_ green that I could see was the MASSIVE mountain, naturally, I walked towards it.

This is going to take a while...

* * *

 ** _Welp, since all My Craft authors introduce their stories in short, fast bursts at the start, I figured to do so as well. Saves me some stress._**

 ** _I also realized._**

 ** _I am exception(ly baddddd) at Dialogues. I'm more of a world creating author! Not a person-creating author! Though, I'll try my best._**

 **Inventory:**

Mono: Wooden Sword {Lightly Damaged}, Wooden Axe, Clock, 1 Stick, 9 Wooden Planks, 2 Arrows, 1 Bone, 1 Rotten Flesh, 8 Carrots.

EXP: 1 Level (1 Exp, result of trading)


	3. Chapter III

_**Sup. What? Another quote of the chapter? Pfft. Fine.**_

 _"If you have time to think of a beautiful end, then live beautifully until the end."_ -Sakata Gintoki, Gintama. (Didn't google about that one, heh, heh.)

 **Arc: Misfortune and Travels**

 **Chapter III**

* * *

Hiking.

Yep, one of the most dullest experiences I have ever experienced. Walking is not very tiring, but if you're walking along the slope of a mountain, then it's bound to get tiring soon. It's a fortune that eating Carrots restore some energy, and more importantly, hunger.

But Carrots and foodstuff are resources right now, and I will have to preserve them if I want to make it through the hike.

So far, about 2 Carrots have been eaten, and the other side is still quite far away... The glaring sun made it difficult to see the top either.

This MASSIVE mountain has a really large diameter, seeing the sun shifted from sunrise, up to midday right now. If I was back at the Origin Zone, then I am certain that a few days might have passed. Luckily, time is much slower outside the Origin Zone.

I checked the time by glancing at my clock, the sun slowly but steadily approaching the night. It was still quite far away, but it was moving very slowly, at a snail's pace. I guess it would take a few hours before the sun sinks.

Placing the clock back into one of the pockets of my belt, I resumed hiking forwards. The sooner I get to a kingdom, the better.

If I had more food resources, then I would have already reached a kingdom by now. But right now, I had to walk, which wasn't as taxing as sprinting is. It would only be a matter of time before I reached-

 _*Twip*_

Something odd sounded near me. Looking at the source of the sound, I found a stick imbedded deep in a block away from my feet. I plucked it out, and it was an Arrow, a feathered stick capped with a sharp piece of Flint, which could kill me-

 _*Twip*_

And, another Arrow pierced through my crimson longcoat, and I took this as a signal...

To start running.

* * *

It was annoying. As I ran, my pursuers and might as well my to-be-murderer was following me, with the occasional arrow being shot, but none of them really met a mark. The closest encounter was an arrow cutting off a stray strand of my black hair.

Now that I think about it, I never really know what I look like, aside from my clothes-

 _*Twip*_

Arrows always remind me to keep my head straight and make straying thoughts disappear.

I suddenly realized something. Perhaps I would be lost after this, but it would be much better than costing me my life, but perhaps running around the trees could work, shaking off the pursuers off my tail-

But my crimson longcoat could be easily spotted. If only I had a way to make it disappear-

And, as if on cue, my coat _did_ in fact disappear, leaving me with my black undershirt, and the comfortable burden leaving my shoulders, and the warmth of it gone.

Focusing back on reality, I still had pursuers to shake off.

The forest was deep and dense... there weren't any notable landmarks they could use, aside from the MASSIVE mountain which casts its shadows unto the forest the opposite side of the sun.

 _*Twip*_

Right. I really have to keep focusing on the task here. Turn right, then left, then left, then right... It would be a good combination, but... it would just land me where I last headed for. Left, right, left, left, right, straight, left, right, left.

... I guess that's a good combination.

Time to execute the plan then.

 _*Thack*_

Ouch! Something sharp pricked me. Looking at the source of pain, an arrow was imbedded deeply in my right leg, but even as the pain shooting up on my leg, it was still perfectly useable. A glance through my left arm showed 7 hearts remained.

I braced myself for the plan. Left, right, left, left, straight, left, right, left. I imagined a small map of directions and arrows, and I represented myself as a small, green dot.

I suddenly, and somehow managed to imagine a small outline of the forest. I was a green arrow, quickly running forwards. There were other white dots quite a distance away from me.

A clearing is on the left of me right now.

I ran, waiting for the perfect opportunity-

I turned left sharply, almost tripping by the sheer force of sprinting before correcting myself by touching the ground to not trip. I dashed forwards, before turning to the right path sharply, once again almost losing my balance.

I once again dashed forwards for a few meters, before turning left. And- why can't I sprint?

Taking cover behind a small cluster of trees, I glanced at my right arm. It revealed that only three hunger was left. A quick chomping of three Carrots resolved that quickly enough.

Just as I popped out of my cover, three crafters stood before me. They all wielded weapons. This was not going to be that good for me.

I still had a small question though. "How did you find me?"

The first one, the crafter with the words 'Savvy_Knight' stepped forwards, brandishing his Ivory-colored sword, before replying. "We all make loud, obnoxious sounds when eating. We just followed the source."

Oh. That explains quite a lot.

Maybe it was just panic, or maybe something came up to me, but I threw a block at the crafter, before dashing off once more.

Now that all there was around me were dense trees, I had the advantage of not having an archer trying to peg me with arrows.

My pursuer's footsteps were starting to fade into the background. I had ran off a few more meters, then took cover behind a dark-colored tree. The chase took off more distance than I had thought. Perhaps going to the MASSIVE mountain cannot be accomplished right now.

Now that I think about it, the arrow imbedded in my leg was already gone, and the two arrows in my belt suddenly became three. Maybe I had subconciously extracted it from my leg? Checking my inventory, my 8 Carrots swindled down to 3... I would have to be more careful next time.

Much, much more careful.

I checked my surroundings and listened to the ambient noise. No footsteps...

Now that I was safe(?), I guess I could start planning my next step. I never noticed a blur of two potions crash into my head, and suddenly, all motor functions ceased to be.

 **Bad End.**

* * *

 _ **Anddd, there's a bad end for Monologue_Master right there. But not to worry! It's not really 'Bad End' as in 'Bad End', but rather he just became unlucky for this to happen. And after all of those strokes of good luck too..**_

 _ **Mono has a mini-map, Yay! But I think it's only useable when he focusing.**_

 _ **Anyway, let's see what's to happen to Mono in the next chapter.**_

 **Inventory:**

Mono: Wooden Sword {Lightly Damaged}, Wooden Axe, Clock, 1 Stick, 8 Wooden Planks, 3 Arrows, 1 Bone, 1 Rotten Flesh, 3 Carrots.

EXP: 1 Level (1 Exp)


	4. Chapter IV

_**So... yah. Quote of the chapter.**_

 _"The difference between a Master and the novice, is that the Master has failed_ more _times than the novice ever tried._ " -Kuro-Sensei, Assasination Classroom.

 **Arc: Misfortune and Travels**

 **Chapter IV**

* * *

"Finally, you're awake." A rich, baritone voice called out behind me. I turned around and saw another crafter, with the words 'Cerulean_Wastelands' imprinted in a floating white box above his head.

Pale skin, raven hair and a pair of sky blue and indigo mismatched eyes were obvious features. He was also holding an Ivory white sword. Probably made out of a metal of sorts.

"Where am I?" I asked. With Iron Bars around me, it is quite hard to get a grasp of my location- I realized.

"You're in Prison." He replied, before getting up from the block he was sitting, dusting his pants and smoothing the creases of his blue jacket. He had just confirmed my suspicions. He moved towards the door, before pulling out some sort of item.

"Wait. Prison? What did I do?" I asked again. He placed the item in a block next to the door, before flicking a stick protuding from it downwards. With a *click*, the door popped open.

He gazed at me, before shrugging and replying. "You have been arrested for the murder of 'Craftly_Beast' three months ago."

"Wait. I didn't do that. I spawned into this world three days ago!" I retorted. Obviously, I only had a Sword and an Axe, and they were even made from wood.

"There is no point in reasoning. A testimonial saw you, with your Red coat, before you inevetibly splashed yourself with an Invisibility Potion, just as you fled." He said, before poiting to the backpack and belt over the corner. "Smart though. Dumping all your items and making it look like you're a newly spawned crafter."

Reasoning with him doesn't seem to work.

The movement of his arms indicated that I walk to him. "So... Reasoning with you obviously doesn't work. Now, What am I going to do?"

He grinned to himself. "Should you not be asking, _what are_ you _going_ _to do?"_ He didn't give me time to reply and explained. "Well, you will Mine for us, then you will be set free after a couple of years."

"How many years...?" I asked. I could see my crimson backpack and belt at the corner of the room, if barely. Their dark color made it hard to spot, and the light from a singular torch could only stretch so far.

"Oh, just a decade. Not to worry though. We don't die of age, so you can still do whatever you want." He shrugged, before tying my hands with some sort of string material. The string tied at my hands had an extension leading to the crafter before me. He tugged at it, and I would be obliged to follow.

We walked down a stone hallway, dark-shoden and lit only by the occasional torch once every twenty paces. Finally, we arrived at a room. It was rather large. There were rooms with more Iron Bars, stacking with one another, for three floors. There were staircases to reach the upper prison rooms, and narrow, fenced platforms leading to the entrances of the second and third floor prison rooms.

The massive room was lit by glass sticking out of the ceiling, lighting the whole place. And I could also see torches placed, probably to prevent the place from spawning mobs while it was nighttime.

"Guard number 301. I see you brought him. Did he cause any problems?" A crafter said. The words 'Swashler' was above his head. He was clad in ivory-white armor. His face was bearded quite thickly, which covered his mouth. It was quite funny to see him, but it was not the time to laugh at his appearance.

"No sir." Cerulean replied curtly, saluting with his right hand.

"Hmm. Now lead him to room 367." The iron-clad crafter said, nodding contemplatively to himself.

"Yes sir." With a final salute, Cerulean lead me to a room, the second floor. He drew another item, and placed it at the wall next to the door, and once more, the door popped open with a click sound. Before he pushed me in, he placed something in my hand, before shushing me. It resembled and felt like a crumpled piece of paper.

He left shortly after.

 _Good things come in your way, should you be patient._

The message was cryptic, but I knew one thing for certain. I would escape this place. Maybe Cerulean would help me...? No. Probably not. Maybe the meaning of the message was to keep patient, and I would be let go sooner or later.

But shall I wait in prison, while the guilty set free, killing other crafters? No. Shall I be punished for the sins of another crafter? No. Shall I continue speaking poetic-ly? Erm, not really I suppose.

I made my mind. I will escape.

* * *

Day 1

*Knock*

Huh? A single hard knock erupted from the door, before it was flicked open with the familiar *click* sound. Stepping inside of my cell, I took note of the person's appearance. Long brown hair which reached her waist (which was long, seeing it was _braided),_ electrifying blue eyes, and fair skin to complete her appearance.

"Try not to do anything." Cerulean said with a smirk, before locking the door and sitting on a block next to the doorway. It would be close enough to keep an eye on us, but far enough for him to not hear any conversations.

Well, her clothes were also quite sharp. No, not literally. No spikes were jutting out. What I mean is, a white blazer, and a (ridiculously) short, blue skirt tends to do that to a person... And, she's gazing at me sharply, which really, really, _really_ completed her appearance.

And, her name which was 'Clement's_Edge'... I do not know how tall her 'sharpness' tower right now is, but I would be willing to estimate it would be around 600 stories high...? Not sure if it's enough though.

"What are you looking at?" She said, not surprising by the _sharpness_ in her voice.

"... too sharp." I muttered, in a volume I was sure she _could not_ hear, even if her ears were _sharp._ I'm obviously looking at her. Isn't it obvious in itself? However, a look at her proves her to demand an answer from me- her posture had been straight, her arms crossed over her chest, and her foot occasionally tapping the ground.

"Well?" She said impatiently, and the frequency of her tapping becoming faster.

"Isn't it obvious. I'm looking at you-" I suddenly stopped, before asking her a question of mine. "How about you. Why are you here?"

She paused briefly, almost as if thinking for a response. It took her barely a moment to reply. "It isn't any of your concern." She replied briskly, then faced the other direction, turning away fro, my direction.

Well, she could have it her way. I am going to escape this place afterall.

* * *

Day 2

*Knock*

Another singular, hard knock to start the morning. This time, Cerulean was in the doorway once more, but he wasn't escorting anymore crafters. "Monologue," He said, pointing at me. "In the mining yard."

We were walking in a brightly lit hallway, when Cerulean, looking around, carefully slipped another piece of paper into my hands once more. "Don't open it until the midnight's hour." He whispered quickly, before returning to his usual position like nothing happened.

"Why?" I asked, the volume not much than a whisper.

He chuckled, before replying in a hushed voice. "There are many thing I could answer you question for. Elaborate."

"Why are you slipping messages to me?" I asked again.

He gazed over the right, remaining silent. "That, is not an question I will answer. For you own safety, you must not know." He finally said after a few minutes of walking. "However, what you will need to know, that this day would make you sleep comfortably later on."

I do not like the grin on his face, as he led me to a rocky site and gave me a gray pickaxe.

* * *

 ** _Meh. Not much. Introduced some characters, but that's about it._**

Inventory:

Mono: Stone Pickaxe

EXP: 1 level (1 EXP)


	5. Chapter V

_**Quote of the chapter. How many quotes have I stolen right now XD**_

 _"Keeping yourself strong proves an even greater strength."_ -America/Alfred F. Jones, Hetalia

 **Arc: Misfortune and Travels**

 **Chapter V**

* * *

"So, how's the day?" Once again, Cerulean asked with that smirk which is starting to get annoying.

"Tiring." I replied tiredly... The statement would be a understatement, seeing that my body is literally filled with fatigue right now. Every step makes me want to sleep, and my Hunger was down to 1 hunger-stick. When was the last time I was fed...?

He laughed. "Don't worry. You'll be given food again," My eyes sparkled slightly with delight at the statement. "and you'll be sent to your room shortly. Since you're tired, I expect that nothing will happen to you later night."

"And, what does that even mean? You keep saying that 'something will happen between me and Clement', but you never tell me." I said in visible irritation.

Once more, he laughed to himself. "You will know in due time." Once again, he spoke in a poetic-ly voice. I always hated how he always uses that whenever I ask something. He finally stopped laughing, before once again, dusting his pants and smoothening his jacket (even if there were no dust or creases), and gestured me to follow him.

* * *

[Cerulean_Wastelands]

Monologue_Master is an interesting character, I'll give him that. I could also see a speck of intelligence behind his gray eyes, calmly analyzing everything and asking questions to himself- isn't that what 'monologue' is all about? A sort of curiosity also radiated his eyes... but I cannot place what sort of curiosity it was, but it contrasted with his dull, gray eyes.

I know that he's not the murderer, but the others aren't exactly... Smart per se. Most of the guards here, if anything, poses not much of a threat. Only the edges of their blades do.

So, I decided. By the fifth day he spends here, escaping would be the most viable option. I have carefully studied the other guard's shift patterns, and friday would have the shortest shifts, meaning that guards will shift more than usual. It may make escaping itself a tad harder, but atleast allows for more opportunities to slip by.

He wondered why I decided to help him all of a sudden. Well...

 _The wardens are just as locked in as the prisoners themselves._

That is the philosophy I have made since I entered here, and already guarded over hundreds of crafters. Most of them have specks of violence in their eyes- ready to kill me if the opportunity arises.

Over the years, I have honed my instincts. Anything that relates to a gaze will immediately make me sense something. Now that would make me look and turn around.

 _The wardens are just as locked as the prisoners themselves..._

I have decided over the years to help the crafters who are wrongly accused and imprisoned. It was a risk I was willing to take.

* * *

[Monologue_Master]

Walking wordlessly to the prison room, I wordlessly went to my bed and slammed myself into it, noiselessly sleeping. The soft, red fabrics was simply _pleasure_ to me right now. That was the extent of my tiredness. Even if food restored my energy, I was still somehow tired.

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

Somehow, I cannot sleep.

I can't sleep because of a wierd, odd sensation. It feels like a very sharp object brushing along my hair, and I only know one person who could produce a gaze that sharp. But... should I actually confront her? I am tired, my mind lost an important edge to it- logic, and her words do have an edge to it...

In the end, I decided to just simply shrug it off and sleep. It was hard to shrug off a gaze that sharp, but I somehow managed to do it.

* * *

Day 3

*Knock*

Huh. Should have seen that one coming. It's been repeating on the exact time, and the exact loudness of the knock itself.

"Wake up." The owner of the voice was Cerulean, once again. Not very surprising per se, seeing I already heard that for the past... three days? Four? I don't know. I'm great at talking to myself, not math.

Rubbing my eyes, I slowly sat up. The first thing I noticed was... did Clement even sleep at all?! I swear she was in the same position she was in the night before, when I saw her before I slept.

"This day, once more, would be another tiring day." Cerulean informed me, before gesturing to Clement. "It's your second day here, so it's time to mine."

Clement merely nodded, before leaving the room. I have no idea why she's in prison, but once more, either it's rude to ask, or her sharp words will have struck me in the moment I have spoken.

Cerulean stood behind Clement, and I've been forced to lead the way. Sneaking a glance behind, I could see distrust in Cerulean's eyes, which was countered by a... pointy gaze... What? I have been using the word "sharp" for quite a while now.

The rest of the walk towards the mines were silent and tense.

* * *

And, in the mines, which was essentially a underground place which was flat and filled with stone, which reaches into a black rock which was named 'Bedrock'. It is indestructable, and serves as the barrier between the 'Overworld' and 'Nether'.

They refused to tell me what the Nether is, only saying it was place filled with fire. I suppose... that would suffice.

I could different Crafters all around me, tiredly hefting their pickaxes into the stone, slowly mining the mine.

And, Until this very moment, Cerulean is _still_ looking at Clement, carefully observing for any sudden movements. A look at Clement's eyes shows a dangerous glint. Luckily, they aren't doing anything violent against each other, other than their heated glares.

...

...

...

Okay... Well, I certainly don't want to be in the middle of a glare-fest, so I moved to another direction, and mined peacefully with my Pickaxe. Clement on the other hand... Wow. I never knew that the crafter hands could move that fast. She could practically clear stone in the matter of a second, where I could clear a block of stone in 3 seconds or more.

Maybe it has something to do with the anger she's currently feeling. I don't know, but I do know that a glance at the glass roof shows the sun in the middle of the sky-blue sky... Isn't there such a color named 'Sky-Blue' for the sake of describing the colors of the sky...?

The sun in the middle of the day means... what was it called again, Lunchtime? I think that's it, and Lunchtime means food. Food means energy, and energy means not getting tired.

Well, atleast a guard announced "It's Lunchtime!", which confirmed my suspicions, then all the prisoners were lead to the cafeteria. Come to think of it, all groups of prisoners have a warden of their own.

Amidst the crowd, I could see that we were the last ones to be lead. Probably because we're the latest prisoners they have. Once again, I was forced to the lead as Cerulean was once behind Clement to make sure she doesn't do anything.

Wait. If Clement is going to backstab Cerulean... then what about me...?

No. If she was going to kill me, she would have done so, when I was asleep. But isn't that only because Cerulean was guarding...? Too many questions and such few answers. I'll answer the questions myself in due time.

* * *

 _ **Well, sup. From now on, until... December 26, I will update once per day, for the sake of CHRISTMAS. Oh yeah, 4 days before Merry Christmas to you!**_

Inventory:

Monologue_Master: Empty.

Cerulean_Wastelands: Leather Cap {White}, Leather Chestplate {Blue, Unbreaking I, Protection I}, Leather Pants {Blue}, Iron Sword {Unbreaking I}, 4 Book and Quills, 1 Written Book {"Philosophy I have in life"}, 10 Steak.


	6. interlude I

_**Hallelujiah! Almost didn't make the chapter for the day huzzah! Anyway, this chapter is all about, who else? Cerulean_Wastelands. Also, since this is an interlude, no quotes :(**_

 **Interlude I**

 **Cerulean_Master**

* * *

From the shadows, I spawned. In the darkness, I rose.

It was very fitting for someone like me.

I am the 100,981th crafter to have spawned in this world.

During those times, the cult of Nitebane was just in its earliest stages, only barely 50 members and a sole leader. Even then, it still posed a hazard- abeit small.

You could say that I was once a leader of the cult itself. How I deeply regretted my actions.

But... even as I regretted it, I could not bring myself to end my former comrades.

So I fled. As I fled, I found myself surrounded by snowy wastelands. You could also say it was pure coincidence with my own name.

Or perhaps destiny.

Either way, I founded another kingdom within the snowy confines. From the grass that grew, I collected Seeds. With Stone Hoes and backbreaking labor, I made a farm.

From the farm, I made a house. I regularly explored the wastelands, and soon trees grew from a single tree. I considered it atonement from the hundreds, or thousands of crafters I had killed.

Then I stumbled upon a group of crafters, all of whom were starving and frozen.

So, I had quickly built another house to give them a place to stay, seeing my own house was only suited for a single person.

After which, they stayed and helped me do the chores... Such a shame I could not remember their names, ever since the incident.

But only a single crafter other than me survived. A personality ever so sharp, fled, left me alone to deal with my own problems.

But that's fine I suppose. She was, only armed with a Wooden Sword afterall, and just spawned a few days before.

On the other hand. Even with a measly Stone Sword, I had experience under my belt. Barely killing off the other crafters who had raided the place, I built a small memorial.

You could say I was driven to the point of insanity when _she_ had left.

And from the memorial, grew another house. From the house, invited more crafters. From more crafters, word spread, and even more crafters came.

Soon, a kingdom has been established. I became the King of it for about a few years, but when the crafters progressed and thrived, I soon left the throne, giving it away to the next in line.

You could say I started the traditio of replacing a King every decade.

Soon, a prison has been built.

I do not remember how it happened, but I just became a warden in it.

You would think that throughout the years, I would be the head of the prison itself.

But, even if I didn't, it's fine.

Ha. You would probably think my life is a sad and tragic one. If it was, then I wouldn't be probably alive for... decades? Centuries? A millennia? I don't know.

Even with death's grasp near, I still hid myself and slithered away when grabbed.

In the progression of Lazuli, in the shadows I planned, in the darkness I helped.

But everyone forgets their own shadows. So, I too, had been forgotten.

You could say I spent most of my life in the Prison's library. I had even written several books there, mostly stories about tragedy, based on my life but with different names and characters.

But a single piece of mine stuck out. _Memoraire of a joyful memory._

It was a collection of all the joyful memories I had experienced. If my life is a library, then all my memories would be contained in a single book, maybe two.

I am only known in the kingdom through the literary works I made. Considered to be a classical, I was a renowned author.

I turned it away too.

You could say I make the most stupid of options, with the wisest of intentions.

No. Not exactly wise.

Afterall, isn't that what life is about? Making decision and dealing with the consequences?

I am, afterall, Cerulean_Wastelands, a cynical person to heart.


	7. Chapter VI

_**I just want to say, DAMN YOU SHOTBOW NETWORK!**_

 _ **I'm good now. :)**_

 _ **Anyway, QoTC.**_

 _"Reality is not real. It is just an illusion; a concept, but a very persistent one."_ -Albert Einstein

 **Misfortune and Travels**

 **Chapter VI**

* * *

Day 4

I was walking down the hallways peacefully. Today was appearantly a "free" day, so we can spend it doing whatever we want, and we can walk around the whole complex... Well, except for the entrance, or anywhere near the entrance, or risked getting shot by a squad of archers.

Did I mention that the entrance was a 3-block wide bridge, and below the bridge was molten rocks, or Lava, and that an archer squad was surrounding the bridge...?

Probably not.

However, as I walked, I noticed a few voices, although they were hushed. Quietly walking to the source of the voices, I slowly and carefully made my way.

"Think about it, Cerulean Wastelands, if you were to take back the throne. Think of all possibilities that you could do."

I peeked over the corner, to see... Cerulean and Clement arguing...? Cerulean had his sword held, while Clement had somehow managed to snag a Stone Sword. She also had smoke formed around her, like some sort of aura.

"I was done with that life. Maybe if you haven't left me alone _that_ day, then you would have known."

I wanted to inferfere badly, but something in my mind actively tells me to stop my motives, and just watch on passively.

"Ha. I killed a crafter just to get here, then this is what happens?" Clement laughed to herself, before turning deadly serious. "Nice meeting you, Cerulean." Clement said with a dangerous smirk, just as she _vanished_ then a sound rang out in the middle of the hallway an instant later.

Increasing the chances of me getting found, I poked out my head even more to see more clearly.

Cerulean's and Clement's blades interlocked with each other. Gray and Ivory met each other in a deadlock clash, and their wielders glaring towards each other.

Suddenly, with no warning, Clement vanished once more, only for a gray blur to occur behind Cerulean, however, I saw a slight movement in Cerulean's eyes.

And a flash of red from one of his eyes.

Suddenly, Cerulean himself disppeared, and all I could see were flashes of gray and ivory spurting in one location, then disappearing in an instant and returned to another location. A gray streak suddenly flew away, and imbedded into the wall was a Stone Sword.

Something flew from their position, and a glance at it shows me it was Clement's head.

However, before I could run away, Cerulean's voice reached me. "I know you're in there, Monologue. Plan's changed. Escape is now." He said. "Also, you might want to grab the Stone Sword."

Hesitantly, I grabbed the Sword imbedded into the wall. "So... Do you have any plans?" I asked.

Cerulean looked at me sceptically, before asking. "You're not fazed that I just killed a crafter?"

"I haven't seen anyone move that fast before," I said, "so I assumed she... was... a hacker..." I immediately pointed the sword towards Cerulean.

"Now, now. I'm done with that actually. You could lower the sword." He said, just as I heard footsteps. "Well, damn. We have to move." Taking out a gray arc attached on a stick, Cerulean mined the walls, before I had been dragged in. He quickly plugged the hole he made with the collected stone.

"Go and listen for anything the guards would say." Cerulean whispered.

Pressing my ear towards the wall, I strained to make out their conversations.

"Well, I bet that this Friday, yet another prisoner would try to escape-"

"Shit! A crafter head! Jon, go and inform the guards! I'm going to try and locate the murderer!" I could hear frantic footsteps, which eventually faded.

Cerulean suddenly took his Stone Pickaxe out again before mining an opening in the wall instantly, and the guard fell to the ground, unconcious. A set of footsteps trailed to where the other guard went, and I could hear yet body fall.

"You might want to drink this if you want to catch up." He tossed me a bottle containing sky-blue liquid in it. I uncorked it, before downing it in one gulp. Cerulean ran to a direction, and I followed him at a speed I never thought would be possible. "That's a Speed II potion. It will greatly enhance your mobility and speed, but it will only last for a minute and a half."

We were sprinting in the hallways so fast, that everything became hazy-like with the speed. A glance at my arm showed a feather-like icon on it, and a timer displayed 1:28 and was dropping every second. Perhaps that was the remaining time left.

"The speed we're going at is astounding." I commented, just as we raced down a staircase.

"We're heading towards the Prison Vault. In there, we'll take some items to gear you up, then escape." Cerulean informed me, just as he turned to the left hallway. "From there, we would head towards Exter. Ringwood is connected with Daymonte, and Daymonte likely has a couple of officials regularly visiting Lazuli. Exter, aside from the Tinker's trades, almost has no connection to the outside world."

I nodded, just as he flicked placed another Lever next to an Iron Door, and flicked it, opening the door.

"Go to the 'Potions' section, grab a few Speed Potions, pink-colored Potions and red-colored ones, then go to the 'Armory' section and grab some Iron stuff, probably a few diamonds if you can find one. I want you back here in 10 seconds."

I shot into the Vault. The Armory section was closest to the entrance. I grabbed a full set of Iron Armor, before I noticed a blue-ish piece of Armor. It was a Diamond Chestplate. I swapped it with the Iron Chestplate.

After grabbing a Diamond Sword, I sprinted into the Potions section. I grabbed the remaining two Speed Potions, then grabbed 2 Regeneration Potions (The words popped up when I touched them), then grabbed the sole remaining Strength Potion. Along the way, I collected a handful of what it appeared to be 'Golden Carrots'.

After collecting everything necessary, I headed back into the door.

"Took you about 12 seconds, but good enough." He said, before sprinting off to another direction.

"I always wondered why you want to break me out of here." I stated, just as we turned around a corner.

"I always wondered the same thing too." Cerulean replied. "But of course, there is a reason- Wait." Cerulean raised his hand to signal me to stop.

I looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What's happening?" I asked in a quiet voice, before he drew out a Diamond Sword, but the blade was longer than usual and the guard was slightly larger.

He had disappeared in the corner, and I heard yet another dull *thud* from an unconcious body.

"Let's go. They have no doubt noticed the bodies by now." Cerulean appeared before me, and upon turning right, I could see a window.

"Wait... Don't tell me we're going to have to jump...?" I silently hoped we didn't.

"I prepared water at the bottom to land on. I also placed a torce below the water to ensure it doesn't freeze to Ice."

At this rate, I could seriously stand in awe with how prepared Cerulean is right now.

* * *

Inventory.

Monologue_Master: Iron Helmet, Diamond Chestplate, Iron Leggings, Iron Boots, Diamond Sword, 9 Golden Carrots, 1 Speed Potion (3:00), 1 Speed II potion (1:30), 2 Regeneration Potions (2:00), 1 Strength Potion (3:00).

Cerulean_Wastelands: Leather Helmet {Blue, Protection III}, Diamond Chestplate {Projectile Protection IV}, Leather Leggings {Blue, Protection II, Unbreaking I}, Diamond Boots {Blue, Feather Falling II}, Diamond Longsword, 48 Steak, 45 Emeralds, 1 Book {"Philosophy I have in life"}, 1 Stone Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe {Effeciency III, Unbreaking II}, 1 Strength Potion (8:00), 3 Splash Potions of Healing II

 ** _And thus, our Main Characters makes their daring escape._**

 ** _I'm sure some of are wondering, "where the hell did Cerulean get all that sh*t?!". Well, don't you think that being a King of a kingdom once would make you_ this _stacked._**

 ** _And as to why our Main Character never noticed that Cerulean was wearing a different chestplate... In Minecraft, an enchanted Cerulean-dyed Leather Chestplate doesn't exactly differ much from a enchanted Diamond Chestplate, does it?_**

 ** _And yes, the book would become important later on._**


	8. Chapter VII

_**Well, I guess "Welcome to the Seventh chapter of the fanfic." - Crafted Reality.**_

 _ **Btw, you've been ripped a quote off. Just joking. QoTC.**_

 _"Ho ho ho. Meeerrrryyyy Christmas!"_ -Santa Claus **_(Wait. I thought Saint Nicholas was well-built, because he was a soldier. You would think that driving a chariot 24/7 would make you tired, and would make you well-built throughout time :/.)_**

 **Misfortune and Travels**

 **Chapter VII**

* * *

"I sure am glad I have this really warm longcoat." I refered to my attire, which allowed me to resist the snowing weather better. "I'm not sure what will happen to me without it."

"Speaking of which, you have to remove it." Cerulean said. "Otherwise, you'll get spotted easily." To emphasize his point, he suddenly got a bow and shot a red-colored sheep a few... dozen blocks away. "But it's okay if you don't. I, afterall, have a stash of Invisibility potions right..." Cerulean made a Wooden Shovel then dug a spot near a tree. "Here."

I peeked into the hole he made, and there was a single chest. In the chest, I could see a lot of potions. There were the usual potions, like Strength, and Speed, but there were other colored potions too, and had different shapes. Almost as if they were made for throwing.

"Head's up." Cerulean said, and tossed something to me. I immediately caught it by reflexes.

I examined the potion in my hands. It was gray-blueish in color. "Is this an Invisibilty Potion?"

"Yes." Cerulean brought out a identical potion and showed it to me. "I have an extra here, which I will use."

Why would Cerulean give me Invisibilty Potions. Invisibilty is similar to Stealth, and stealth is vital for robberies at banks- and what are robberies? Anyway, we won't be using Stealh/Invisibility unless we were either doing a 'robbery' or we were escaping silently...

So we _were_ going to escape silently.

"I could hear footsteps. Take off your armor, then drink the potion." He whispered, before his armor disappeared and he drank his potion.

I also did what he did.

A shovel appeared- which was Cerulean, then it dug some snow on a random direction, leading towards a glowing pit- probably lava, then a Snow Block appeared, and plugged the hole to his Potion stash.

Being invisible feels really wierd. But in my arm, which is still visible to me, I could see another buff similar to the Speed, but had a different Icon. It looked like a faint, blue outline of a blocky person.

*Crunch crunch*

Now I could hear some noisy footsteps. Of course, walking on fresh snow could be quite noisy, especially if you don't know how to walk on snow. It happened to me before.

Well atleast, the constantly snowing weather covered our footsteps.

A group of four Iron Armoured crafters appeared, wielding Iron Swords. A single one appeared important, and he wore a Diamond Helmet, and had an Enchanted Diamond Sword. Over his head, were the words 'ChasingDepths'.

"Sir look! A trail of unsnowed Grass." A guard said, pointing to the dug snow Cerulean made.

"Aye. Good eye. Follow the trail." ChasingDepths ordered, and they all went to explore the trail.

As I was watching them stare in marvel at the Lava pit, I saw a Diamond Longsword float in the air, and suddenly, all the guards were knocked into the Lava.

I could hear screams of pain, and I could hear a bunch of 'hissing' sounds.

"Come on. Let's go. Follow the sword." Cerulean said, just as he ran through the clearing. I followed suite.

* * *

Gone were the snowy wastelands, replaced by rocky wastelands.

In the small patches of Grass that grew, there were a handful of animals to be slayed for food source.

"Wow. You visited an awfully lot of wastelands to live up your name." I commented off-handedly.

"Yes. 3 Wastelands I suppose. Nitebane was situated in a gravel wastelands- not to mention a cliff. But I guess Lazuli isn't a wasteland anymore, seeing trees surrounded it. And Exter, well..." He pointed to the vast, gray landscape. "Aside from the few patches of Grass, this place is essentially dead."

Aside from the rolling hills of Stone, there were also small patches of Lava pits.

"I wonder what sword you use. It's slightly different from the ones I usually see." I said.

Cerulean brought out his Longsword in response. "You mean this? Well, I got it from the Tinker- which lives in the Exter by the way. I bought it from him for about, hmm... 100 Emeralds."

"Wow. That's expensive." I commented.

"Of course. It is, A Tinker's Exclusive afterall. And you only get them through two means: Either you're someone important in a kingdom or a group and they rewarded you with one, or you're just rich enough to afford it."

"So... I guess it's going to be hard to get my hands on a Tinker's Exclusive?"

Cerulean paused in silence, thinking. After a few moments, he replied. "There is an alternate way. You could steal one from a Vault, though that would require patience and a lot of Invisibility Potions, though if you managed to steal one, then nice."

"I suppose it's plausible." I said.

"It is." He confirmed. "The cult of Nitebane usually does that, except that they steal it from a Crafter, then usually kills them afterwards." He responded. all the while having a straight face.

"Do you even feel remorse at killing someone?" I suddenly asked, out of the blue.

"What made you ask that?" He countered my question with one of his own.

"You... just killed 4 Crafters before. You pushed them in the pit."

"Listen, Mono. Sometimes, if you want to live, you have to drop all feelings of remorse. Some people would take advantage of your Mercy, and the tables will turn against you." He sighed to himself tiredly. "Anyone whom you encounter that attacks you, and if you somehow have a feeling that they would betray you, then don't hesitate to kill them."

"But... even the one who are innocent?"

"Yes. They could spawn a hateful feeling for you. It is best to nip the rose in the bud, before it could grow thorns." He said, once again poetic-ly voice not withholding, then looked at the sky. "Nighttime is about to occur."

I looked at the sky in response. The sun was, indeed just hanging precariously in the edge of the horizon. "It is." I confirmed.

In the edge of the horizon, I barely see a stilhouette of buildings.

* * *

 ** _Well... That was fast._**

Inventory:

Monologue_Master: Iron Helmet, Diamond Chestplate, Iron Leggings, Iron Boots, Diamond Sword, 5 Golden Carrots, 5 Steak, 1 Speed Potion (3:00), 1 Speed II potion (1:30), 2 Regeneration Potions (2:00), 1 Strength Potion (3:00).

Cerulean_Wastelands: Leather Helmet {Blue, Protection III}, Diamond Chestplate {Projectile Protection IV}, Leather Leggings {Blue, Protection II, Unbreaking I}, Diamond Boots {Blue, Feather Falling II}, Diamond Longsword, 40 Steak, 4 Golden Carrots, 45 Emeralds, 1 Book {"Philosophy I have in life"}, 1 Stone Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe {Effeciency III, Unbreaking II}, 1 Strength Potion (8:00), 3 Splash Potions of Healing II


	9. Chapter VIII

_**And thus, another quote makes its way to the surface of the glowing, white screen.**_

 _"It's not my fault (insert reason here) that it was actually a (insert random item here) in disguise!"_ -Me, "excuse template."

 **Misfortune and Travels**

 **Chapter VIII**

* * *

"It seems I have made a slight miscalculation."

Cerulean is... essentially correct. Instead of rocky wastelands, in front of us were hills made from colored Stone, or 'Stained Clay' as Cerulean named it. The hills had different layers of different colored clay, giving it the appearance of a sandwich with the fillings of a rainbow...

Correction. A rainbow with less, and duller colors.

"But still. I think this place could have some sort of Kingdom, or atleast a village." He whistles, before grabbing a Steak and munching on it. "And you'd think these colorful Clay would be actually tradable, seeing their use for Decòr."

"But... Who would live in a scorched, colorful desert?" I asked.

"I wouldn't say 'Scorched' per se." Cerulean replied as he lifted his hand and pointed something behind me.

I turned around. A few distance away from me was a river, and the sapphire waters seemed to stretch infinitely over either left or right. Surely no one could blame me if I take a little sip...

I took a tentative step forward, before Cerulean called to me.

"If you're planning to drink some Water, then you might want to carry this." Cerulean said as he tossed an item at me. I caught it by reflexes, and it appeared to be... An empty Potion bottle?

Looks like Water could be stored inside.

"Thanks." I nodded gratefully at his direction, which he returned with a nod of his head and a smirk.

Okay... So I have a Bottle now. Time to go and take a long sip at the river...

I approached the river with long strides and quick steps, with the Bottle drawn and ready to scoop some Water. A single touch made by the Bottle in the Water already filled it to the brim, removing the need to actually scoop up any water.

I downed the Water in a single go, before filling it again. I would probably need it later on.

However... Cerulean did look a bit thirsty... Nope. He's fine. Even though he had beads of sweat forming in his forehead, even if he looked parched, he's perfectly fine.

And he had withdrew another Bottle from his Inventory and made his way to the river. Told you he's fine.

He let the Bottle touch the water, before raising it to his lips and drinked it quickly, but somehow not choking on the water...?

How does that work?

After that, he placed the Bottle back into his Inventory, before drawing his Longsword. He placed the tip of the blade into the clay, then started moving it.

Even if the lines are imaginary, I still tried my best to remember which lines and points (he stabs the ground) he scribbled and traced.

After a few seconds of remembering, a... diagram, had been drawed, and along with it, barely hearable mutters to himself.

"... if the star is... then... hmmm..." His diagram has lots of dots randomly placed and scattered throughout the markings in the ground. He traced a star to another, and repeated the process.

By the end, he had made a... stick figure from the dots.

"Currently, we still have a few hours to make it to Exter, but it would take three days." He informed me, before shrugging to himself. "Well, if my calculations are true, and the star chart is accurate."

So, the imaginary markings on the ground was called a 'Star Chart'. No wonder it looked sort of similar to the sky, only that the sky was black and the ground was brown.

'If my calculations are true...'

"So that means you have a chance to fail?" I asked.

"Hey. Everybody has a chance to fail at something. Some just happened to master a thing, that their chance of failure at that particular thing is virtually non existent." He said, before sticking a finger out. "Take for example, Jeb. Among the first crafters to have spawned, Jeb is the best at redstone. From what I've heard, he has even managed to set up a unpenetrable base, filled with traps and mobs. I pity an idiot who would accidentally stumble their way in, only to discovered they would get killed."

He stuck out a second finger. "Second, I heard Herobrine was the best in combat, both Ranged and Melee." He stuck out a third finger. "Third, Steve is the best in the art of Mining, and he has made the golden rule to 'Never dig straight down', seeing he almost died in lava should he not have been dragged out by his friends."

He stuck a fourth-

"Okay, okay. I get it now. You're using historical people to state your point, I know. What you're saying basically is that if I master something, then I would almost never fail at that something." I interupted him, and he raised a brow, before remembering he rambled on for a few minutes.

"Sorry. I tend to go on and on when it comes to stating my opinions." He scratched his head sheepishly, before clearing his throat. "Well, that pretty much summarizes it."

"Yes." I agreed. "It is easier to say that than sticking out your fingers and listing people and their renowned skills."

"Admittedly- Watch out!" He suddenly yelled. I reflexively stopped walking, before looking in front of me.

In front of me, was a ravine. And a hundred block fall...

I took a wide stride backwards tentatively, and a second, a third, before sighing in relief. At this rate, only a running idiot crashing into me would be probably the only thing that would knock me to my demise.

We made a bridge out of mining some Clay to cross the Ravine. It was merely 1 block wide, but would be enough if you're careful.

After careful placing of blocks, and hurried steps, we finally made it to the other side of the Ravine.

"Thanks, Cerulean. I could have fallen if it weren't for you."

"No problem." He said, before turning his head over the distance. I turned to where he was looking, and saw... A random crafter being chased by a crafter holding a Wooden Sword...?

Cerulean tapped my shoulders, before asking me something. "Did you just see what I saw...?"

"I... You mean the crafter running like a headless chicken?" I could feel Cerulean nod his head. "And he was being chased by another Crafter holding a Sword?" He nodded again.

I turned around, flashed him a smirk. "Nope."

Cerulean broke his hold at my shoulder, before staring at the two stilhouettes eventually closing to our direction... headed towards the ravines...

Hmm... I feel like I'm missing something. I checked my belt, it was still there, and so was my backpack. My stash of Potions and my gear were still with me, so what am I exactly missing?

...

 _Hundred block fall..._

At the speed they're going, they might as well tumble and fall to the ravine. And thus, I did what I thought must be done.

I waited. And, atleast the headless-chicken crafter noticed the bridge, before scampering on it, raising his arms at both sides for more balance.

And, his the person chasing him followed suite, but didn't bother to extend his arms for balance. I couldn't make out the words above his head due to his eccentric and random movements.

And thus, the pursuer tackled the headless-chicken-runner crafter...

I guess they're lucky they made it to our side, and didn't roll off the bridge.

"Give it!" 'Dark_Reaver' demanded, his hands reaching towards the other's belt. He wore simple clothes, consisting of a white tracksuit, a yellow scarf, a black belt, and a white backpack.

"No! I refuse! Even if this is my grave, I will die defending this piece of Chicken!" 'Sandy_Epitome' retorted, keeping Dark_Reaver's hands at bay.

I turned to Cerulean as I witnessed the childish brawl happening in front of our very eyes.

"... Is it just me, or are they idiots...?"

He turned to me in response. His face contorted into barely visible annoyance, with his left eyebrow twitching errantically. He sighed, before replying. "Not everyone has insight..."

And suddenly, a fist almost struck Cerulean's face, if it wasn't for him twisting his head just to avoid in it time.

The fist was connected to Dark_Reaver's arm. His arm still outstretch, he twitched. "It's not my fault my partner keeps doing things that borderline... idiocity."

...

...

...

"... Aren't you supposed to punch your partner then?"

A dark aura emitted from Dark_Reaver as he turned towards Sandy_Epitome, his arm balled into a fist.

"Now, now, Dark. Let's not be hasty here. Here! You can have the Chicken."

I sighed. This was somehow, a very idiotic day.

* * *

Inventory:

Monologue_Master: Iron Helmet, Diamond Chestplate, Iron Leggings, Iron Boots, Diamond Sword, 5 Golden Carrots, 5 Steak, 1 Speed Potion (3:00), 1 Speed II potion (1:30), 2 Regeneration Potions (2:00), 1 Strength Potion (3:00), 3 Red Sand, 5 Hardened Clay, 1 Water Bottle

Cerulean_Wastelands: Leather Helmet {Blue, Protection III}, Diamond Chestplate {Projectile Protection IV}, Leather Leggings {Blue, Protection II, Unbreaking I}, Diamond Boots {Blue, Feather Falling II}, Diamond Longsword, 40 Steak, 4 Golden Carrots, 45 Emeralds, 1 Book {"Philosophy I have in life"}, 1 Stone Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe {Effeciency III, Unbreaking II}, 1 Strength Potion (8:00), 3 Splash Potions of Healing II, 2 Red Sand, 8 Hardened Clay, 2 Glass Bottles

 _ **And thus, our characters found themselves in the Mesa Biome. Two members has been added to the party *Confetti***_


	10. Chapter IX

_**Sup guys, long time no update. Now that I'm back from my unannounced Hiatus, I have been feeling refreshed than ever, which should be a great thing.**_

 **Chapter IX**

 **Across the Deserted Wastelands**

* * *

Walking across the desert would be harder than you would have thought it could be. First and foremost, Sand is not very comfortable to be walked on, and the feeling of your feet sinking and you having to pull it out just to walk again could be tiring.

Second, having a person with us who can only be described as a 'Motor-powered-question-asker' next to us could make anyone annoyed. Even I could feel myself getting slowly but surely annoyed.

Cerulean had already cracked a while ago, being extremely far ahead of our position just to _not_ hear and get annoyed by a specific person named on the blocks we were walking on.

"Hey Mono! What do you prefer more, the Desert or the Arctic?" Sand asked, for the fiftieth time in the row of questions.

Ignoring him won't do any good, so I decided to answer. "The Arctic. My attire doesn't make me feel comfortable in the current heat." I replied, gesturing to my ridiculously hot and thick Longcoat.

"Knock knock." He asked while he pretended to knock into a door.

"There is no door. Why are you knocking?" I asked, stating the painfully obvious. "No, seriously. That's just air."

He... reacted in a very odd way. He recoiled back, as if in shock. "You're mean." He said, then he scoffed and left me alone, before going to Dark Reaver. Let's just hope he won't snap under the pressure of annoyance.

The rest of the walk was as silent as a desert could ever be. However, even that was broken.

"Everyone, come here, now!" Cerulean yelled, his voice was loud enough effectively calling all of our attention. We sprinted to him almost immediately after. "I can see a couple of crafters, armed with different manners of weapons. Now that means that they are griefers"

"Wait. Why are you telling us this?" Dark asked. Cerulean gave Dark a gaze, which immediately answered his question. "What... We're going to-"

"Yes." Cerulean confirmed. "We are going to have to kill them."

While killing Crafters are supposed to be evil, Griefers themselves already killed other Crafters. I nodded grimly in response.

"Wait wait wait. We have to kill them?! Can't we just avoid them?" Sand objected. I would have agreed with him, if I hadn't seen where they were camped, and what they were doing.

"Come and see this." Cerulean said.

Sand hesitantly obliged. I saw was already in a position that would allow me to see the griefer camp.

"T-they're..." Words refused to form on Sand's mouth. We all watched on, our eyes unable to be taken off from the particular scene unfolding. A tied crafter, being killed slowly by Arrows. Not a bow, but just simply an Arrow being thrusted, before being pulled out.

And after a undetermined amount of time, an explosion of gear, and a faint cheer from the camp.

It was rather fortunate that the screams hadn't reached us.

"Why... would they do such a thing?" I asked, my voice was surprisingly calm and filled with pity.

They are Griefers. They cause and spread misery. Always remember that." Cerulean's sharp words bore into my memories. "And later, we will avenge the killed crafter."

* * *

"So... What are we going to have to do?" Sand asked, his eyes displayed specks of Determination.

Cerulean stared at the camp, which has gone mostly silent now, aside from a few crafters staying up and guarding. "First, we will get everyone a Bow, meaning we'll kill Skeletons, then we'll get some Arrows."

"Sand, how good can you shoot a bow?" Cerulean asked.

"Hmm... I used to throw an Egg, and hit a cow from a quite a distance away. Does that count?"

"Yes. Okay. Anyway, the second part of the plan," He turned to Sand with a grin, "Is a distraction."

"Wait. Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked, traces of panic set in his voice.

"Sand, how much good are you at running?" Cerulean asked.

"Hmmm... I could run as fast as a headless chicken. Why is that-" He paused, before he realized, which led to his face darkening. "Why does it have to be me?" He groaned, which went unnoticed.

"And you, Mono. How much good at using a sword are you?" He asked.

Hmm. How much good of a swordsman am I. I remember, that I could kill a Zombie or two... But crafters who has brains? I don't really think so.

"Well, I could swing a sword cleanly enough to kill a Zombie." I said, before adding my second thought. "Does that count?"

"Hmm... Probably." He shrugged. "They themselves don't know how to use swords, either. Just punch with your left hand, or kick when you clash with other weapons."

I nodded wordlessly in response.

"And you, Dark?" Dark brought out a Stone Axe in response. "How good are you with an Axe?"

"My answer should be the same with him." Dark replied, pointing his finger to me.

Cerulean sighed, before gathering us all in one small circle. "Okay, here's the plan. First, we hide in a close enough to see the guards, but far enough to not be seen hill, using its shadow to hide us. Next is Sand, who will Snipe a guard with a Bow, which will draw his Attention, who will run to this place, then ambush the guard. Just repeat the tactics until all the guards are taken care of." He finished, drawing a long breath.

"What will happen next?" I asked.

"Simple. We will take care of them while they're asleep." Cerulean replied. "But if something goes wrong..." He paused, sighing, before turning to me and Dark. "Well, I did ask how good of fighters you are, right?"

"Well, I could spot a Skeleton from here. Wrestle the Bow from its grasp, then kill it for arrows." Cerulean looked at the camp again, counting the guards. "Then kill other Skeletons until we get atleast 7 Arrows. Clear?"

"Definitely."

"Yep."

"Now go kill those Skeletons." Shortly after finishing the sentence, I sprinted to the lone Skeleton, being careful to not trip by the Deadbushes present.

The Skeleton notices me, but it was too late. I jumped into the Skeleton, using my momentum to deliver a hard punch to its jaw. _Skeleton's skulls are harder than I thought._ Without wasting any more time, I draw out my Sword, before swinging it into a wide arc aimed to split its skull.

However, I noticed that it wasn't killed immediately. Worse, it was still functioning and could still fire a bow. Worst was, it was quite a distance from me. Then, an Arrow just fell from my blade, and a closer look at it shown a small, almost unnoticable chip in the edge.

The momentum was lessened because of the shot arrow.

 _I wonder if I could block its arrows with the flat of my sword._ I idly pondered, while dodging the barrage of Arrows. Sighing, I draw my Sword, and... an Arrow bounced off from the flat of my blade.

 _It does work. Huh._ With this new strategy, I blocked the Arrows I could, dodging ones I couldn't, and approached the Skeleton. With another swing of my sword, it disappeared, leaving behind two Arrows, and a few orbs.

The orbs phased through my hand, filling the empty bar quarterway. I placed the Arrows in my backpack, which got shot just a few moments after.

I turned around, and immediately blocked another arrow trailing dangerously near my face. The Skeleton this time, had an enchanted bow. _Okay. Same strategy._ I rushed to the Skeleton, and held my blade in a way that the broad, flat side was covering as much exposed spots in my torso.

An arrow was shot, and I blocked it. _Wait. That shot actually made my hand shake from the force. Just what is that bow?_ I decided to doge the shots more, instead of blocking it for favor of my hand.

Within the hitting distance, I swung my sword again in a neat cleave. Without an arrow to disrupt my swing, it instantly killed the Skeleton. It left behind two more arrows, a shining bow and more Experience Orbs.

I grabbed the Loot, but upon grabbing the Bow, words appeared to my vision. _"Power II"_ was written. I shrugged, before placing the bow into my backpack.

I sprinted across the sand once more. The journey was only a few dozen meters away.

When I reached our camping place, I saw Cerulean with a wide smirk, Dark with his jaw dropped, and beside them were... A pile of Arrows, and a few bows, with one shimmering...

I could also similarly feel my jaw dropping from the sheer amount of loot he brought in. The wide smirk he had didn't really help matters, but the loot he did bring in did.

"Now we're ready to initiate the second Phase of our plan."

* * *

Inventory:

Inventory:

Monologue_Master: Iron Helmet, Diamond Chestplate, Iron Leggings, Iron Boots, Diamond Sword, 5 Golden Carrots, 5 Steak, 1 Speed Potion (3:00), 1 Speed II potion (1:30), 2 Regeneration Potions (2:00), 1 Strength Potion (3:00), 3 Red Sand, 5 Hardened Clay, 1 Water Bottle, 4 Arrows, Bow {Power II}

Cerulean_Wastelands: Leather Helmet {Blue, Protection III}, Diamond Chestplate {Projectile Protection IV}, Leather Leggings {Blue, Protection II, Unbreaking I}, Diamond Boots {Feather Falling II}, Diamond Longsword, 40 Steak, 4 Golden Carrots, 45 Emeralds, 1 Book {"Philosophy I have in life"}, 1 Stone Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe {Effeciency III, Unbreaking II}, 1 Strength Potion (8:00), 3 Splash Potions of Healing II, 2 Red Sand, 8 Hardened Clay, 2 Glass Bottles, 76 Arrows, Bow {Damaged}, Bow {Damaged}, Bow {Power I}

Dark_Reaver: Stone Axe, 3 Cooked Chicken, Chainmail Chestplate

Sandy_Epitome: 4 Cooked Chicken, 8 Eggs, 3 Sand, Wooden Sword, Leather Boots

 ** _Okay, well, see you next week!_**


	11. Chapter X

_**Yo, as a milestone of 500 views, have longer chapters. I dubbed thee readers who reached this long, as 'Junior Self-talkers'. Quote of the chapter, and onwards to the story. (When you realized that you could place multiple scenes in a chapter.)**_

"' _Real life'? I didn't heard of that server before."_ –Random meme about a gamer.

 **Chapter X**

 **Across the Deserted Wastelands**

* * *

[Sand]

Even if I had shoes, the cold sand below my feet were freezing! Seriously, who would've thought that the block I was named on would turn against me?

This task… I was apparently, honest to whatever god related to sand out there is, is to provide a distraction. Yes! A distraction!

Just like a movie—whatever a movie is, I had to be the bluffer, and the one who does all the fancy talking to annoy people…

Monologue Master would've done better, seeing he probably had a lot of words in his dictionary. He talks to himself for god's sake!

I was slowly approaching the encampment now. I had to carefully sneak my way to them, because if I get spotted too early on, the distraction won't work.

Now at a respectable sniping distance, I took out my Bow. It was the _Power I_ —whatever that was, Bow that Cerulean Wastelands gave me.

I got my Bow from my Backpack, and drew the string back, calculating the distance required for the arrow to make its mark. I let go and the string, and the Arrow whips forward in response.

Look at the speed of the Arrow! It met its mark just a few moments after I let the string loose!

The sleeping target jumped up and yelled, taking off the arrow from his nose-hole, or whatever. He called over the attention of the rest of the two guards, and spotted me.

It was time to distract.

Luckily for my friends, I was a complete _master_ at distractions.

"Yo! Fuckboys! I challenge you fuckboys to outrun me in a race!" I taunted, and started to sprint towards the direction that Cerulean told me to go.

I turned around, and saw the griefers chasing after me, holding their Stone Pickaxes (You can make stuff outta Stone?!) and cursing for me to get back there.

"Too slow, fuckboys!" I yelled as a response. Returning my vision back to my running, I can see Dark's outline above the floating patch of sand (it feels awkward to say my name), waiting.

Monologue Master stood on the said floating patch, looking ready to jump down. And, Cerulean was constructing something out of Cacti and… Signs?

Meh. Explains where the random tree we found had gone.

I turned around the sandy pillar, and I was now within vision of Mono, who got his Bow and aimed at the button to call Cerulean's attention.

…

He failed spectacularly, hitting Cerulean himself instead of the button.

Mono probably called out an apology to Cerulean, while he just climbed above the floating sand.

I turned around, and saw the Griefers had multiplied, the three had become ten. I worried, but relaxed slightly when I saw they only wore leather at best, and nothing at worst.

Not to mention, most of them held Sticks for weapons.

And somehow, I knew this was in the basket—our basket. Well, time for them to just go to that spot… 'And all will be fulfilled'—a line I got from Mono from one of the conversations we briefly had.

* * *

[Mono]

I crouched down, seeing Sand over the distance and hot on his trail were Griefers. Shouting could be risky, so Cerulean placed down a button for me to shoot.

I got out my worn out and damaged bow, aiming for the button. I let the arrow loose, watching in marvel as the projectile moves much further than I could possibly do…

… And cringed as it actually hit Cerulean instead. He shot me a questioning look, his eyebrows raised. I mouthed an apology in return.

Either way, he worked even faster, placing the final sign and a pressure plate, before he climbed to his position at the floating sand.

Sand are among the blocks that obeys the law of gravity, but there is a rare case, where untouched Sand could float. It was extremely rare to see so, as it was similar to seeing the moon as colored blue, or what people would refer to as the quote, _'once in a blue moon'_.

' _Are you ready?'_ Cerulean mouths to me, gesturing to his sword to enforce his point.

' _I think so.'_ I replied, drawing my own sword as a response. I stared at the turquoise-colored blade, and the moon gleaning off the reflection.

' _Just imagine what they did yesterday.'_ Cerulean said, and a mental image in my head was shown.

They deserved to die, that's very evident. The crafter was innocent, and they just killed him for their amusement.

"Mono. Jump." Cerulean said, breaking me from my train of thoughts. I looked down, seeing Sand being cornered by the Griefers.

 _It's do or die._ I jumped down—without being damaged. Before I could even think, my hand shot forwards, and an explosion of gear was of what the griefer remained.

—All of it done in a fraction of a second.

It was instincts that probably allowed me to land the fall perfectly, and the flawless, silent execution of a griefer.

It was almost as if this was primal-instincts to me.

This happened before, actually. At the forest, where the people cornered me. I threw the block, because _I knew_ it would distract them. I expertly weaved through the leaves of the trees, because _I knew_ they were dangerous, but I couldn't possibly take them on.

A griefer finally noticed me, as my shoes crunched against the sand. I stood up, and blocked an arc of gray which could only come from a stone pickaxe.

I whipped my leg forwards, hitting the exposed stomach. While it didn't knock him back, he did keel over in pain.

My sword lashed out, driven by a hand of instincts. A streak of sapphire, and another explosion commenced.

By this time, a blur of cerulean was on the edge of my vision, but I didn't pay it any mind. I glance at the griefer in front of me. Actually, at the trio of griefers in front of me.

The smirks on their faces. It told me that they believed that numbers could allow them to take me on.

They were wrong.

An arc of sapphire. These afterimages of my sword happens because I can move my sword at nigh-paralleled speeds.

Another arc of the identical color. An explosion of gear, as I dodged a shovel headed toward my head.

By this time, the pair of griefers had their smirks turned into something else. It was obviously scorn, but I could trace fear within their masks of anger.

A streak of sapphire came to the griefer on my right. It was blocked by his pickaxe. I used the clash of the weapons to withdraw my weapon by spinning counter-clockwise, and when I faced him again, my right leg slammed into him, knocking him by several yards.

The griefer closest to me had wet his pants in fear. I thrust my sword out, and the third explosion of gear I witnessed has occurred.

I sprinted to the griefer I had knocked back, and my sword lanced forward, being a barely seeable streak.

The fourth explosion commenced.

I turned my attention to Cerulean. His strikes were more precise, and isn't as fast as mine. But as far as I could tell, he wastes a lot less movement.

I looked at my arm, and saw that my Hunger was in a bad state. It had 7 blackened chunks of meat remaining. I replenished it with a golden carrot, and topped it off with a steak.

And, the remaining griefer that Cerulean had been fighting exploded. The lone griefer tried to flee was sniped in the leg by Dark, then was finished by chopping his head off with a rend from his axe.

An explosion of gear… but I noticed something. Dark was pelted by rocks, but he didn't seem to get hit with any damage.

I face-palmed as I realized that dodging those flying sharp pieces of rock was useless.

… Well, at the very least they know how to shoot a bow accurately.

"Phase 1 has been accomplished," Cerulean said, clapping for everybody. "Congratulations."

"That's what you get for killing that innocent crafter!" Sand yelled, as he displayed a gesture that involved his right hand being pointed to the tent, and his middle finger displayed.

I could tell it was supposed to be rude. Obviously.

"But Mono," Cerulean said, looking at me. "Where did you learn to fight with a sword like that?" He asked, pointing at my sword.

"Instincts, I guess." I shrugged, as I scratched the back of my head. "Something also flared up at the forest, where there were crafters who tried to kill me. They were talking, and the next I was already jumping from treetop to treetop."

"Oh. So you also have a natural survivalist, and have an affinity for swords then." Cerulean stated. "I also was like that, but I thought that I could rely on my sword-instincts, I bothered to let it stay the same, as to learn Archery." He laughed to himself, as if remembering some sort of joke. "But let me tell you, if you're a natural at swords, expect Bows to reject you thoroughly."

"Wait, really?" Cerulean raised his brow as a response, then pointed at the arrow still stuck on his chestplate. "Oh right."

"Yes. You did shoot me. I'm just thankful that my armor has a specific enchantment designed to help protect against bows."

"Then how about Dark Reaver? He uses an Axe."

"Oh. Some people find the balance of swords to be off, so they use Axes instead. While slightly weaker and more expensive than a sword, some axe-users I know could use bows decently."

"Then, did you add Dark to your list? Because I thought I saw him help out by sniping some griefers."

Cerulean laughed to himself. "Already did."

"Sand makes a good distraction, doesn't he?" I turned to Sand, but he just stared off into the distance. "Hey Sand?" I called out, but he still ignored me.

"Look at that…" He breathed out in nervousness.

I obliged. I looked over the horizon, and a mob of griefers was going to our location.

Cerulean sighed, before looking at Sand. "Well, at least I managed to make a trap for them. We might want to get to higher ground."

Cerulean climbed to the floating sand, and I followed.

Just as I had reached it, Cerulean whipped out a bow. After Sand finally climbed to our position, He shot the button, and an opening in the earth was revealed…

And not to mention, cacti below it.

Most of the griefers fell in the cacti, being slowly pricked to death if their screams are any indication. The rest were sniped by us, even if I couldn't really shoot an arrow to where I wanted to.

We sniped the remaining Griefers in the trap—well, in my case, the word 'Sniping' couldn't be applicable as I just 'needlessly drew my bow and missed by a large margin'.

But good news is, with three archers who could actually hit their targets, the griefers were made quick work of.

Cerulean stood up from his sniping position, before jumping to the cacti-less ground. "Well, now that they're dead, we might want to move on."

I jumped after him, and I heard crunches of sand indicating that Dark and Sand have caught up.

Now, the only thing remaining was to get to Exter. All will be fulfilled in due time. Too bad Sand haven't heard the full quote, only the first half.

And now, after the dead griefers… the most fun part about a raid, is the looting time. And Sand, along with Dark seemed to have fun looting stuff.

And, they engaged in a tug-of-war between a piece of a leather chestplate, with Sand winning and Dark sulking away in defeat…

Yup, normal looting stuff.

* * *

"So, A Tinkers' Exclusive basically allows you to do stuff that normal things couldn't?" Sand asked.

Cerulean drew out his Longsword, before he reappeared next to Sand. "With this Longsword, I could streamline in a straight distance. Perfect for rushing into battle, as well as retreating."

"Whoa. Cool! How can I get one of those?"

"Well, they cost a lot, seeing that only since one person makes them, he can raise the price a lot if he wanted to, and people are still willing to buy it." Cerulean replied.

"Well, how much do they cost?"

"The cheapest one I once saw was in an auction—35 emeralds." Sand's eyes widened in shock. "And since you have to bid higher and higher to get it. It ended up selling as 125 emeralds." Sand tripped as a response.

"T-that much?! Well then… who has it now?" Sand asked in a surprised tone. Cerulean only stared harder, stating the obvious. "… What? Why are you staring me like that?"

I sweat dropped. "Sand, I think Cerulean means that he owns the exclusive." I said to him, who only widens his eyes in shock.

"Wha—?!" Sand tripped again, before quickly standing up and pointing an accusatory finger at Cerulean. "You never told me you were rich!"

"Yes." came Cerulean's reply. "I never did, and you never asked. Admittedly, at that time, I was in my monetary prime, and I could easily beat my rival in auctioning the weapon." He said, recounting the event. "It was fun, making it seem like I was also desperate to get the weapon, as the prices only keep being raised by an emerald, before I decided I had too much fun and just simply slammed down 125 emeralds."

Sand blinked once, then twice. "Savage much?" He only said.

"Yes."

I coughed to help get rid of the slightly tensing atmosphere between us.

I asked, "So, your sword," I pointed a finger at the pouch on his belt containing the item. "It's made of Diamonds, right?" Cerulean shook his head. "What? It looks like Diamond to me."

"It's actually made of Paper."

I sweat dropped at that, and I could feel Sand do the same. "How does it look like Diamond, then?" Sand asked with his eyebrow raised.

Cerulean paused, before drawing out his Sword. He pointed at the… white handle?

"The Handle feels vaguely like Paper to me." Cerulean replied, as he ran his hand on the handle. "So, it must have been made out of paper, and not diamond."

Something definitely tells me that paper was _not_ supposed to be used as a material for a sword. I'm sure that if you make a sword out of paper, one solid smack and it's already broken.

And yet, Cerulean is holding a handle made of paper—which should have been broken by the amount of force he puts on his strikes.

"That's… law brokening." Sand said, his grammar being incorrect because his mind no doubt, being unable to process the absurdness of the statement.

Even I could feel my brain melt at the possibility of Paper being coated with a sheath of Diamond, and the handle not being destroyed somehow.

"Hey, when you could see blocks that doesn't follow the laws of gravity, I don't see why not you can't make swords out of paper." I said.

Sand only nods dumbly.

"Touché." Cerulean said, respectably nodding his head to my direction.

"Burned." Dark spoke for the first time in this conversation. Similar to Cerulean, I gave him a passive questioning look. He must have felt the stares questioning his participation. "What? Couldn't I have a little fun as well?"

Cerulean shook his head as a response. "No, no. Not at all. Just glad you finally got out of your sulking—"

"I did not sulk, alright?!" He said, angrily pointing at Sand's worn chestplate. "I was just…" He trailed off, finding a suitable word. "I was just simply… _plotting,_ to reclaim it through Sand's pity at my fake-sobbing!"

Cerulean's eyes displayed something that indicated he didn't quite believed it. Neither did I actually, when I actually felt him crying.

"Why would you need a Leather chestplate when you already have something better?" I asked, to which Dark only shrugged in response.

"Well, now that your _plotting_ has obviously failed, you could have this random cactus that I got from _plotting_ from Cerulean." Sand said, in his hands was a small block of Cactus.

"Gee, thanks." Dark said sarcastically. He approached Sand, before slamming gloved hand into the Cactus.

Sand stared at his hand, and then to the cactus sticking at Dark's hand. Their eyes made contact, as they looked at their arms which showed half a heart missing.

"Owww! Cactus hurts!" They both screamed in pain at the same time, and behind me, Cerulean could only sigh in annoyance.

"I do not know how this conversation went from a Tinkers' Exclusive, until it went to this situation." Cerulean sighed to himself.

Neither could I know.

Once more, we were traversing across red sand. Just when I was growing bored of regular yellow sand. Well at least, I will never forget the color of yellow sand, because a certain crafter known as 'Sandy Epitome' is travelling with us, and his clothes, hair and eye color are just as colored as sand themselves.

…

I do not know how many times I said the word 'Sand' on that particular paragraph.

Well moving on, actually… No, we weren't moving on, since we all decided to make camp because we were all feeling tired after the events of today.

I just stared into the sky, not being able to sleep. The stars are glowing passively, their illumination cutting through the dark sky.

Ironic, that in the sky was dark, and the ground was sand.

I laughed internally at the thought. It is a direct reference to the two of my friends, Sand and Dark.

Just as I stare into the sky, a vibrant orange hue pierces through the darkness. A glowing mass called the 'Sun' was peeking into the horizon, just its tip visible.

It was the sixth day. Only another day before I finally managed to survive a whole week within Minecraftia.

I smiled as I thought about it. All crafters must've also been happy that they survived for a week within a place such as Minecraftia. From some of the hostile crafters, to the spawning mobs, it is a milestone for crafters.

* * *

Monologue_Master: Iron Helmet, Diamond Chestplate, Iron Leggings, Iron Boots, Diamond Sword, 4 Golden Carrots, 4 Steak, 1 Speed Potion (3:00), 1 Regeneration Potion (2:00), 3 Red Sand, 5 Hardened Clay, 1 Water Bottle, 9 Arrows, Bow {Damaged}

Cerulean_Wastelands: Leather Helmet {Blue, Protection III}. Diamond Chestplate {Projectile Protection IV}. Leather Leggings {Blue, Protection II, Unbreaking I}, Diamond Boots {Feather Falling II}, Paper Longsword {Diamond-encrusted, "Sharpester"}, 40 Steak, 4 Golden Carrots, 45 Emeralds, 1 Book {"Philosophy I have in life"}, 1 Stone Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe {Efficiency III, Unbreaking II}, 1 Strength Potion (8:00}, 3 Splash Potions of Healing II, 2 Red Sand, 8 Hardened Clay, 2 Glass Bottles, 15 Arrows, Bow {Damaged}

Sandy_Epitome: Stone Sword, Leather Boots, Leather Chestplate, 7 Cooked Chicken, 8 Eggs, Wooden Pickaxe, 3 Flint, 10 Sand, 3 Iron Ingot, Wooden Sword, Bow {Power I}, 15 Arrows,

Dark_Reaver: Stone Axe, Chainmail Chestplate, 6 Cooked Chicken, Stone Pickaxe, 10 Flint, Bow {Power II}, 21 Arrows

 _ **Character interaction's improved, dialogue improved… Damn, and all of that just by using a laptop (The rumors were true!)? Well, I know what to use next time I write.**_


	12. Chapter XI

_**Sooo… Yeah…. Sorry. Here's another chapter...**_

 _ **I ran out of quotes :/ (Quote me on that one, and it would be a quote.)**_

 **Chapter XI**

 **Across the Deserted Wastelands**

* * *

[?]

It seems that the day was a beautiful one, the sun was shining triumphantly in the skies, the flowers bloom—scratch that. The flowers are _always_ in bloom in Minecraftia.

I sat in my chair, thinking about what would be the next course of action. My eyes fixed upon the item frame next to the window, specifically, what was _in_ the item frame.

It was my Iron Axe, _Dream Smasher_ , enchanted with fine enchants. _Sharpness IV_ and _Fire Aspect I_ seemed to do more than enough to make a job done.

I stood up from my chair, moving my way towards the displayed weapon. Now that I think about it, it's been quite a while since I last repaired the axe, the dents and scratches notifying me otherwise.

I picked the axe from the item frame, when I heard faint voices.

"Are… Cerulean?" A voice questioned.

I shook my head again, and all hallucinations of a perfected paradise were gone. Gone were the opulent walls built from Quartz, gone were the acacia-laid floors.

What remained was the damp, desperate place of a cave. _Dream Smasher,_ was the only thing which survived from the illusions.

"Appears…" Another faint voice replied, and this time, I didn't hesitate to grab my gear.

It seems, that an opportunity strikes. It was time to hunt again.

* * *

[Mono]

We soon reached an abandoned village, as evident by the cobwebs littered around, as well as the not-so-surprising lack of anyone.

Aside from us, that is.

"This is interesting, I'll admit." Cerulean stooped down to read a weathered sign. "Hmm… Appears that the sign welcomes us to this place."

"This place is boring." Sand commented.

I coughed to capture everyone's attention. "It's not entirely boring," I stated, "I guess we could think of this like a field day or something."

Dark nodded in approval, while Sand raised an eyebrow (Which is becoming too popular a gesture nowadays.)

"How is this similar to a field day, may I ask?" Sand questioned.

I sighed as a response. "Think of it like visiting an ancient ruins, or a museum—"

"—which is exactly why it is boring." Sand rudely interrupted.

"Okay, fine. Thank you, come again." I replied nonchalantly.

It appears that one's personality changes, the more they get used to a person. Sand used to choose his words carefully around me, but now he doesn't really care as much as he used to, and now speaks whatever _second_ word comes into his head.

…

He still might have to thread carefully around Dark though, who proved to be easily angered by his childish antics.

Cerulean clapped his hand once. "Well then now that that conversational battle was fought, how about we start discussing our next set of actions."

"Isn't it _course_ of actions?" I criticized.

He looked at me, before shrugging. "I don't know a lot of words."

Somehow, I could sense him lying, but I didn't pay it any heed.

"Anyway, as I was saying, we need to plan our next _set_ of actions." He said, emphasizing a certain word.

"But, what would we do next?" Dark finally joined the conversation with a single question.

"That's for _us_ to decide, actually." Cerulean replied. "I mean, didn't I say 'we'?"

"You did." I agreed, nodding my head.

Dark shrugged as a response, yet another gesture commonly used now.

Cerulean faked a cough. "Anyways, before I was _politely_ interrupted twice," He said sarcastically, "I have three options for us. We could camp in this village, or we could just head straight to Exter." He looked at the three of us. "It's for you to decide."

"I go with the second option." Dark said, raising his hand.

"So do I." I agreed, as well as raising my hand.

Sand glared heatedly at us as a response. "It's not fair. You're two people. How am I supposed to beat that?"

"I go with the second option as well. It is settled then." Cerulean said, drawing a flat, emotionless stare from Sand.

"You guys suck." He muttered to himself in denial.

"I hate you too." Dark replied sarcastically in response.

* * *

While we left the village, I couldn't shrug off this weird, and odd feeling. It felt impending, like a… deep and dark feeling, which I _know_ is _not_ caused by a dark existence also known as Dark_Reaver.

It seems that Cerulean as well feels it, as his movements as rushed and somewhat eccentric, like he wanted to bolt out at any given moment.

Sand…

…

What's he doing, placing a carrot on his nose? No. More importantly, where did he even get the carrot from?

Apparently, a gaze upon the village resulted in a broken-down farm, which still had a few crops planted.

…

I'm just… going to pretend I never saw Sand place a carrot on his nose…

"Hey look Dark! I'm the carrot man!"

… May whatever God there is, out there… please preserve my sanity.

"Ow! That hurt!" Sand cried out in pain. Probably punched by Cerulean after being annoyed.

…

…

…

"Welp, Imma go at it again." Dark said, breaking the silence.

"Ow!?" Sand cried out again.

"That felt good, actually." Dark said, rubbing his knuckles.

Cerulean's sigh could be heard from a mile away. "Well, it's time to move now." Cerulean informed us, just as he started walking a direction.

I easily followed suit, while Dark followed, before Sand followed as well. The sand was cold once more, as we were walking through the night.

But… I think travelling in the night is infinitely better than walking in the sun. 3/4ths of our group _did_ have clothes made for the cold weather (or at least, was not recommended for desert regions), after all.

Wordlessly, we walked across the desert once more. Cactus from cactus we passed, yet no signs of civilization… yet.

"Mono, heads up." Cerulean said. I wondered why, but focusing on walking.

It soon became pretty evident that we encountered Mobs. Skeletons, Zombies and Creepers wandered around, searching for any crafters.

I always wondered why they like to end a crafter's life. Zombies I could understand. They needed to eat after all, but why Skeletons? Also, what benefits did a creeper have for successfully exploding a crafter?

…

I didn't wander anymore. It became evident that they only did what they did, because Minecraftia itself has a _law._ A law of survival.

With the number of mobs present, we had to skirt around carefully, and snipe (I'm getting slightly better) some of the mobs that saw us.

Mobs seemed to have a limit on how much they could see. A Zombie seems to have a longer-sight range than a Skeleton, which is pretty ironic since it was Skeletons who needed the extra range.

But I'm not complaining.

If Skeletons did have longer ranges, they would be therefore, more dangerous.

…

Aside from the careful walking and occasional sniping, there wasn't much to do. Conversing was out of the question, as we all did need to be alert.

Even someone like Sand could understand the value of keeping a look out.

Out of nowhere, Cerulean brings up a question. "Is it just me, or do I feel us getting stalked?"

Sand opens his mouth to reply, before suddenly, potions crashed to his head.

The feeling was very familiar, similar to what happened just a week ago. I fell down to the ground, robbed of all locomotive abilities.

I twisted my neck, and it was extremely hard to do so—but what I saw in my left arm, were a new set of tattoos. The first had a dark-gray chain-and-ball icon to it, and a timer of 1:09 on it. The next was a snapped sword, with the timer of 0:50 to it.

Cerulean was also paralyzed, yet the distance of him from us seemed like he tried to 'streamline' to prevent getting hit, but he was still splashed anyway.

 _Crunch. Crunch._

Slow, deliberate footsteps resounded. I twisted my neck again with all my effort, and saw another crafter. Brown hair that was long and curly reached just past his face, eyes which shone of insanity, and bandages covered his left eye, while the right was colored green. He wore a tattered coat, dark-grey pants, and wore a pair of mismatched colored combat boots. One was colored black, while the other was white, yet they seemed to be of the same size and model. His belt was colored white, and his backpack was gray. Above his head were the words _Light_Illusi0n._

He looked around us, before his eyes landed on Cerulean. His eyes lit up, possibly in pleasant surprise, before he started walking towards him.

Cerulean glared at our assailant harshly, yet he didn't seem deterred.

"What a pleasant surprise, meeting you here." He greeted, bowing down slightly. It insulted Cerulean, as he narrowed his eyes into slits. "My, how rude of you. I was only trying to be nice, you know."

Cerulean glared, but didn't reply.

Light_Illusi0n simply nodded, seemingly taking this as a challenge. "Going to stay silent I see. Well, I'll make you talk." With those words, he reached to his belt, before pulling out a bottle containing greenish-liquid.

Cerulean's eyes slightly widened, but he narrowed them again. Light smiled, as he caught Cerulean's expression. "You know what this is, right? You know what it feels like, right?" Light sang, waving the potion above Cerulean. "Whoopsie daisy." Light said, suddenly dropping the potion and catching it again. "I thought I had butter fingers…"

"… You're a bastard." Cerulean finally spoke for the first time.

"Oh yes. I am, you know." Light agreed, before he took a few steps backwards. He threw the potion to Cerulean, and the vial shatters. Deadly-green liquid splashed, and Cerulean's skin turned into an unhealthy shade of green. "I figured this is a good way to pay you back after leaving me behind with a bunch of cultists."

Even as Cerulean's face contorted into pain, he still managed to smile. "Yes. You did after all, kill her."

"Oh?" Light raised his eyebrow. "Were you expecting me to actually die?"

Cerulean coughed. "Yes I did. Unfortunately, it seemed you didn't." He sighed painfully.

Light narrowed his eyes, before he turned around and scanned our arms. He withdrew another potion, before chucking it at our direction. Satisfied, he faced Cerulean again.

"Where were we again? Oh yes. I didn't die, but I did come back, even stronger than before." Light said, using his hand to flip his hair. His gaze landed on Cerulean's left arm. "Oh. It appears that the poison wore off. Not to worry, your Regeneration will kick in, eventually, wouldn't it?" He looked at Cerulean's left arm, before sighing to himself. He withdrew another potion from his bag, before splashing it into Cerulean.

"That should patch you up."

"But you'll just poison me again, wouldn't you?" Cerulean laughed to himself again, though this was a cruel joke played on him.

Finally! I had managed to withdraw a Speed Potion from my belt. As I lifted it up, Light kicked it away. "Why, you're quite naughty, aren't you? You didn't think I was able to see your plan, did you?"

I stared at him, making sure that my emotions were not for him to see. In the outside, it seemed that I was facing this situation calmly, when inside, I was slowly panicking.

Cerulean sighed again. "Well, that went better than planned…"

Light turned around, facing Cerulean again. "Welp, I think I'm bored. I think it's finally time for you to just die." He withdrew his Axe from his belt, before hoisting it above Cerulean. "Any last words?"

Cerulean nodded. "Just one." He took in a deep breath. "Behind you."

Light turned around, only to meet my Diamond Sword smashing into his face. He gets blasted back for a few meters, and I used that Opportunity to grab my Strength Potion, and drank it.

It seems that Speed would negate the effects of Slowness, while Strength would negate the effects of Weakness.

Light stood up, rubbing his face. "It appears I underestimated you." He grabbed a potion, with the same dark-green colored liquid within it. "I did have butter fingers, after all."

I sidestepped the bottle, but he seemed to predict where I was headed next. Another potion of the same color splashed into me.

Suddenly, burning pain was etched into my being.

I jumped backwards, just an inch from getting hit from the Iron Axe. I continued to jump backwards to avoid the fiery swipes, just as I withdrew a Regeneration Potion from my belt.

Regeneration could negate Poison as well. I threw the empty bottle in front of me, which earned the deadpanned look from Light.

"Seriously?" He said, before dashing forwards.

I sidestepped to the right. I deliver a slash to the left where he passed, but he raised his axe to block it. My sword creates a shallow cut on the handle, but it is superficial that it would not be cut anytime soon.

My opponent grinned savagely. I slashed again, but it was blocked again. Only this time, it hit the blade of the axe, creating fiery sparks.

The next slash I did surprised us both. The attack managed to push back his Axe far enough, that it the other side managed to hit him in the chest, temporarily dazing him slightly.

I used this opportunity to follow up another strike. I struck him in the face, and he was once again, blasted back.

His face contorted into one of annoyance, as he growled. He withdrew another potion from his belt—an electric blue colored liquid which I knew.

A swiftness potion. He threw it downwards, before turning around and fleeing. Glancing at my arm, the slowness effect still lasted for a few seconds—one that might count in this situation.

Instead of pursuing him, I drew my Bow. I pulled the String back, and took aim. I let go of the string, and the projectile streaked through the air in a magnificent arc, landing into his head.

A headshot, it seemed.

He falls down, before taking off another running start again. I could pursue him, as my Slowness just ran out, but Cerulean and the group would be defenseless.

I returned to the group. Sand fell asleep, from the sheer pressure the event caused us. Dark was watching passively, his eyes widened in relief and awe.

Cerulean stared, giving me a subtle nod.

A quick glance at their arms revealed that Dark only had a few seconds of paralysis left, and Sand's effect would last for a few more minutes…

He _was_ directly splashed after all. It was only natural it would last longer to him.

After that event, everyone stayed silent. We wordlessly resumed our march.

* * *

Inventory:

Monologue_Master: Iron Helmet, Diamond Chestplate, Iron Leggings, Iron Boots, Diamond Sword, 4 Golden Carrots, 4 Steak, 1 Speed Potion (3:00), 1 Regeneration Potion (2:00), 3 Red Sand, 5 Hardened Clay, 1 Water Bottle, 9 Arrows, Bow {Damaged}

Cerulean_Wastelands: Leather Helmet {Blue, Protection III}. Diamond Chestplate {Projectile Protection IV}. Leather Leggings {Blue, Protection II, Unbreaking I}, Diamond Boots {Feather Falling II}, Paper Longsword {Diamond-encrusted, "Sharpester"}, 40 Steak, 4 Golden Carrots, 45 Emeralds, 1 Book {"Philosophy I have in life"}, 1 Stone Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe {Efficiency III, Unbreaking II}, 1 Strength Potion (8:00}, 3 Splash Potions of Healing II, 2 Red Sand, 8 Hardened Clay, 2 Glass Bottles, 15 Arrows, Bow {Damaged}

Sandy_Epitome: Stone Sword, Leather Boots, Leather Chestplate, 7 Cooked Chicken, 8 Eggs, Wooden Pickaxe, 3 Flint, 10 Sand, 3 Iron Ingot, Wooden Sword, Bow {Power I}, 15 Arrows,

Dark_Reaver: Stone Axe, Chainmail Chestplate, 6 Cooked Chicken, Stone Pickaxe, 10 Flint, Bow {Power II}, 21 Arrows

 _ **We introduced an antagonist. That's it. Also, regarding another point, not sure if you guys are still out there, or what, but I request that you review,**_ **at the very least** _ **just a few words. Anyway, see you next week. (Won't forget this time.)**_


	13. Chapter XII

_**Here's a new chapter, which I had too much inspiration to write. Enjoy! (Lack of quotes—Oh hey Laner, I see you bought me a quote.)**_

"The one thing we're waiting for is peace on Earth and an end to war." –Freddie Mercury

 **Chapter XII**

 **Labyrinth**

* * *

Cerulean remained silent after the event, refusing to talk to anybody. Whenever we ask him whatever happened, he would only slightly smile and say 'I'm fine. Just shook a few memories,' which is admittedly, not how Cerulean would act.

I should perhaps not pry into his personal life.

But now that I think about it, I never really knew when Cerulean spawned. Suggesting with the pieces of Diamond Armor he wears, it would suggest that he spawned quite a while before.

… But if they were enchanted, then that would suggest he's been around for decades—even a century. In the prison, Cerulean did say that Crafters don't age.

With the way Cerulean phrased his reason as to leaving our assailant to the cultists, it seems like his lover was killed.

…

Yes, that's definitely a reason.

I collected my thoughts, before I sighed. I would continue to work on it later on, once we reach a safe area, but for now I have to focus. It was still nighttime, and mobs are still present.

For the first time, dawn didn't break out from the horizon when we needed it most.

Dark approached me, with Sand following just behind him.

"Welp, now what." Sand whispered. It wasn't a question, but a statement.

Dark slightly elbowed him as a response, before sighing. "I think that we need to evaluate." He said in an air of seriousness. "Cerulean has been silent since the incident."

I felt my eyebrow raise in question. "What do you think we need to do?" I asked. "He doesn't want to talk obviously, and I think that forcing him won't be such a good idea."

Dark stared at Sand, his eyes possibly passing forth a message. Sand slightly nodded his head, as if he received Dark's message.

"Well, I think that's not such a shoddy idea, Dark." Sand whistled appreciatively. He nodded again. "What he means to say, Mono, is that we should confront him once the time is proper."

"Cerulean as of now, is slightly unstable," I said. "You're meaning to tell me that we should wait for him to recover?"

"Exactly." Dark agreed.

I sighed. "But then, wouldn't that defeat the purpose? It wouldn't make sense to ask him about an event that may have happened weeks—or even months ago."

Dark's sigh of frustration was his response. "Damn it. I thought that would work."

"In addition, that would only either aggravate him, or it would make him shut out. And besides, it's not too nice to learn a person's past."

Dark looked at me once, then twice, His eyes glazed with confusion. His eyes slightly widened as if accepting what I said, before he nodded once in contemplation. "That's not… That's not a bad reflection, actually." He commented appreciatively, before he turned around and walked away, leaving me with Sand.

He looked at me once. "That's actually quite clever, actually."

"And for the first time, you aren't half as childish." I replied. He looked at me, before his eyebrow twitched.

"How—"

"Good day to you, Sand." I said, before walking away. I need not deal with Sand's childish antics. Although, there goes that fancy grammar again…

* * *

"It's so hot… Why can't we just wait for night time again? The mobs are better than dealing with the sun." Dark complained, while he fanned himself with his hands.

"I actually prefer to travel during the day." Sand shrugged, referring to his clothes. "This are made for traversing the desert in hot climates, actually."

Oh yes Sand. It's not our fault exactly that we spawned with thick, warm clothes, which are definitely not recommended for the desert heat.

"Stop." Cerulean suddenly said, raising his hand to gesture for us to pause in our steps.

"What is it?" Sand asked curiously. He started to walk to Cerulean's position. "I don't see any… obstructions…" His eyes widened considerably, before his jaw dropped. He shakily raised his finger, before pointing it in front of him. "Is that… Exter?"

Upon hearing the name of the Kingdom, I immediately rushed towards his position. What I saw was… Welp, it's quite small to be a kingdom…

Well, it's situated in the middle of a desert and… are those rolling hills made of Stone? And is that a pool of lava?

Cerulean slightly shook his head. "No. It's not Exter." Cerulean replied to Sand's question. "As far as memory serves, it's only a trading outpost for Exter, I believe."

Even if it's just an outpost, it's rather well defended, and not mention large. It was surrounded by walls upon walls of stone around 15 meters high, and from our elevated vantage view, I could see a couple of orange-capped crafters marching the outside of the walls in an orderly fashion.

Our vantage was still wasn't enough to reveal what was inside the wall, though, except for the tip of a tall tower just slightly peeking from the inside.

"Am I supposed to be surprised that I see a lot of crafters guarding the place?" I asked, although the answer was evident.

As Cerulean said, a certain crafter in Exter produces all the Tinkers' Exclusives in the whole lot of Minecraftia. It would be very, very important to defend all the deliveries. Since the demand for the weapons are considerably high, the Tinker (Is that a word?) could raise their prices as high as they want. With that, the one in charge of the outpost could even skyrocket the prices, being able to afford all these security and getting rich.

…

...

...

Why did I suddenly understand economy?

Cerulean looked at me, half-raising his eyebrow. "Since we know that Tinkers' Exclusives are important, It's very important—"

"You could stop the explanation, Cerulean." I interrupted him. "I already figured it all out in my head."

He looked at me once, then shrugged. Well atleast, he now can hold a conversation. It almost makes it feel like the event which happened yesterday didn't happen.

Almost.

"Wait… If it's a trading outpost, then there must be many crafters over there." Sand said excitedly. "Then if there are many crafters, there must be an Inn, then if there's an inn…"

"There'd be beds to rest on…" Dark finished dreamily. He turned to Cerulean, and with a serious face said, "We need to go there."

Cerulean slightly nodded, before pointing to a line of crafters… "Be my guest."

Dark sighed loudly, stomping his foot on the ground until a sand block broke, before being followed by Sand's cries of childish frustration.

* * *

After an hour of waiting in line, we finally managed to make it to the entrance. A guard was situated there, and held out his hand.

"A payment of one emerald per head, please." He said in a practiced voice, the phrase most likely being repeated for years. How he didn't become bored however, was completely out of my understanding.

Cerulean reached for his bag, before he withdrew five shining pieces of Emeralds. I stared at his hand, confused. We were only four people, yet why did he brought out five?

"Here's a tip." Cerulean said, placing the emeralds on the Guard's hand. He stared the gemstones, before shaking his head and giving Cerulean back his emerald.

"No, I believe it's not good to receive tips, when I already have a job." He said.

Now that he lowered his head, I could see his name. Nameless_Missionary, it seemed. The low-ceiling in his post didn't really give me a clear visage of his name. I committed the crafter's appearance to memory. White hair with his eye color matching his hair, a silver cross necklace, and a black coat.

"Let's go." Cerulean said, walking towards the entrance gate.

* * *

 _Spread out, and find a place to stay in,_ were Cerulean's commands to us. We would meet approximately an hour later on the really tall tower of the outpost.

I sprinted past bland, bricked buildings, houses decorated with flowers, and even a blacksmith's shop by the crafter striking against an anvil.

Then, my eyes laid upon a large building's sign. It technically didn't have a name, but it did have a logo. It was basically a bed slapped into some sort of frame. Alongside it are five golden stars. I think it was supposed to be a fancy hotel, and the five stars doesn't disagree with my opinion, either.

…

There were many crafters entering in the hotel, and at the same time leaving. Most of them were guarded with Iron-armored crafters, possibly bodyguards. It is blatantly obvious that they are rich.

I should go report to Cerulean, about this place. If Cerulean was able to give a tip to the entrance guard, then surely he must have some emeralds to spare. And besides, he did say that he was pretty much rich by being able to afford his diamond-encrusted paper longsword for more than a hundred emeralds.

However, we did need to save some Emeralds, as Cerulean can't just have an unlimited number of them.

I looked at the sky, and frowned. It would be quite a while before the hour passes, and I pondered about what I was to do.

Although, it wouldn't hurt to check the hotel out.

I walked to the entrance, excusing myself and slipping past a few crafters. Some glared at me as I passed, but I didn't pay them any heed.

After I walked inside and looked around, my eyes just widened.

The lobby was… astounding to say the least. The room was large, being brightly illuminated by iron chandeliers lit up by lamps hanging up the ceilings. Leaves decorated the sides, and Armor-sets gave the sides a decent finish, and in the center was a fountain.

Yes, a fountain. It was made out from stone—finely smoothened stone that pleased the eyes particularly.

Water shot out in streams, and in a pattern.

However, I didn't come here to watch a fountain shoot out water, but rather to try and secure a room.

I glanced around the lobby, before my eyes settled on a counter just behind the fountain. I approached the crafter behind it, and the crafter scans at me with a judgeful eye. His gaze lands on my chest, or rather, my Chestplate, and his eyes lit up.

"Welcome to _Prima de Luxier,_ how may I help you?" The gentleman behind the counter said in an air of regal fashion.

I could feel an eyebrow raise at his grandeur instinctively. "I would like to inquire about your rooms."

The gentleman nodded, before taking out a book and a feather tipped with a black liquid—probably ink. "Oh yes, we have state-of-the-art rooms, perfectly built by master builders. Each room costs fifty emeralds every night, with the notable exception of 'Royalty', which costs a hundred, but that's because it is carefully built by the owner of this hotel himself." He explained, though I wouldn't be interested in that.

No.

What I was interested in was, the fact that countless crafters come and go here, being able to afford such prices.

I had barely managed to suppress my sigh. "It's quite a tragedy," I said. "I have not brought my emeralds today to do such a transaction." I sighed at my theaterly act, but it would appear that I sighed because of dismay. "May I return to this place once more." I finished, slightly bowing my head to complete the act.

The crafter's right eye slightly twitches, before forcing a smile on his face. "Thank you for visiting _Prima de Luxier._ May you come again."

I slightly nodded my head, before turning around and walking to the exit.

That didn't really end well on a note. But well, beggars can't be choosers, or so a random quote my Normalracy just supplied randomly.

I walked across the streets, glancing at the crafters and the buildings.

There was a random brawl at a bar I saw, as the windows were large enough for the outside to see the inside. That was uninteresting, but what caught my attention was the alley beside it.

It seemed to contain a staircase, and I couldn't help but feel curious about it, actually.

I still have minutes to spare, so I guess a look on that place wouldn't hurt. I walked towards the alley, and there was indeed a staircase leading downwards.

A lever was situated there, next to a door made of Iron. I approached the door, turning the knob to try and open it.

It didn't budge.

I saw the lever, and immediately, I knew that the lever would trigger and open the door. I reached out for the stick, before stopping myself just as my fingers made contact. Should I really open this door? There could be some things that I should not see in the door—

"Stop! You thief!" A loud voice sounded just behind me, and a figure tackled me to the ground...

I slowly shook my head... The lever! It was snapped downwards! It doesn't help that I'm tangled with limbs by this small girl, but—

Click click… click click click.

And with a final click, the ground opened a hole, plunging me to the darkness... And it was all this girl's fault.

* * *

[Outpost Main Tower]

"I know, for one fact, that Mono would be here already." Cerulean said, his eyes narrowed in deep concentration of thinking. "But the fact that he isn't here means something must have happened."

"But, he might have strayed off." Sand proposed.

"Monologue Master, as far as I could tell, is extremely obedient to commands as long as it's logical and is humane." Cerulean said, before sighing deeply and clicking his tongue. He stood up from the bench, before being followed by Dark. "I therefore, conclude that something must have happened to him."

Dark nodded, accepting his proposal. "Hmmm... I agree as well."

Sand nodded as well, before a troubled look crossed over his face. "... But where is he right now?"

Cerulean shook his head in dismay. "That's for us to find out as well." He walked to a random street, turning around to face the pair. "I think we should all split up again to find him. If you find something odd, go back to that very spot." Cerulean said, pointing at the bench he was sitting earlier. "And pray do tell, _don't_ just jump into anything odd without telling us first." With those words, he turned around, before he disappeared—only to reappear above one of the rooftops of a building.

Sand and Dark's eyes met, and they nodded to one another, rushing off in opposite directions.

 _I would not lose another crafter on my watch._ Cerulean thought, before a blur of blue shot out throughout the rooftops of buildings.

* * *

[Mono]

Ouch... My legs broke after that really long fall... I looked at my arm, before I saw five black hearts... That fall really took much of my health.

"Ow..." The girl next to me groaned in pain.

She had red hair, a purple sweater with a heart, and a pink skirt reaching up her knees. Her eyes were... curious to say the least. A shade of bright purple. Her belt and her bag were colored blue and red respectively. Above her head, were the words 'Peculiar_Purple.'

Like mine, she also had half of her health remaining. Sbe stood up, before dusting her clothes. "But it was worth it to get this baby!" She said, before reaching for her belt and withdrawing a... knife? A dagger, it seemed. It was created out of Iron, with the handle made from wood.

It was obvious that it was a Tinkers' Exclusive... and this girl went through so much trouble just to steal it. And, not to mention, she dragged me along with her mischiefs.

I sighed wearily, standing up as well. I walked to a tunnel, without so much giving her a glance as I made my way.

I was rather angry. This girl didn't care what her actions might bring to people, and here I was now, dragged into this ever winding tunnel. Cerulean would probably be mad, Dark would be mad, and Sand would be... actually, I don't think he'll be mad at all, and will only congratulate me for taking the first steps to the 'procrastinator-side', or whatever that is.

But, I am still angry at this girl.

"H-hey! Where are you going?" She asked, before striding to make her way beside me.

I walked even faster as a result.

"Hey! Wait up!" She had to jog now just to catch up with me. "Do you know where the exit is?" She asked, slightly panting.

"I don't." I replied, barely keeping my anger in check. I ran even faster, hoping to lose track of this crafter chasing after me.

"Wait! Please!" She frantically called out, but I didn't stop once. Nor did I give her a glance behind.

In the tunnels that seemed to stretch infinitely, only to stop at a certain point and open up two new openings, something became obvious.

I just landed on a labyrinth, one that I might not be able to leave at all.

* * *

Monologue_Master: Iron Helmet, Diamond Chestplate, Iron Leggings, Iron Boots, Diamond Sword, 4 Golden Carrots, 4 Steak, 1 Speed Potion (3:00), 1 Regeneration Potion (2:00), 3 Red Sand, 5 Hardened Clay, 1 Water Bottle, 9 Arrows, Bow {Damaged}

Cerulean_Wastelands: Leather Helmet {Blue, Protection III}. Diamond Chestplate {Projectile Protection IV}. Leather Leggings {Blue, Protection II, Unbreaking I}, Diamond Boots {Feather Falling II}, Paper Longsword {Diamond-encrusted, "Sharpester"}, 40 Steak, 4 Golden Carrots, 45 Emeralds, 1 Book {"Philosophy I have in life"}, 1 Stone Pickaxe, 1 Iron Pickaxe {Efficiency III, Unbreaking II}, 1 Strength Potion (8:00}, 3 Splash Potions of Healing II, 2 Red Sand, 8 Hardened Clay, 2 Glass Bottles, 15 Arrows, Bow {Damaged}

Sandy_Epitome: Stone Sword, Leather Boots, Leather Chestplate, 7 Cooked Chicken, 8 Eggs, Wooden Pickaxe, 3 Flint, 10 Sand, 3 Iron Ingot, Wooden Sword, Bow {Power I}, 15 Arrows,

Dark_Reaver: Stone Axe, Chainmail Chestplate, 6 Cooked Chicken, Stone Pickaxe, 10 Flint, Bow {Power II}, 21 Arrows

 _ **So… yeah. Mono just screwed himself up. Another Arc, another set of chapters… Sigh. Welp, this chapter was written before my hiatus (pre-December), but I be like, "Meh, Imma try and remake the plot (One of the chapters which survived the Revisions, actually.) The hiatus was actually caused by me remaking a new plot, and deleting all my pre-written chapters.**_

 _ ***Sigh* What a loss... But the new character, Peculiar_Purple, is obviously an important character.**_

 _ **Additionally, regarding the errors about the fluctuating inventory of Cerulean (His diamond boots magically turning to leather :/ ) have been fixed.**_


	14. Chapter XIII

_**I ran out of quotes, and I don't feel like searching up the internet for any more quotes, so I'll replace the quotes with random Minecraft Facts, whether or not they are popular or widely known, or as secretive as a dozen people only knowing.**_

 _ **This is also by far, the finest chapter I have written (What happens when I have loooaaaddsss of time.)**_

 **Fact:** Did you know, that the bottom of a cactus looks like a bleached texture for logs?

* * *

 **Chapter XIII**

 **Labyrinth**

* * *

I finally managed to lose the crafter who was chasing me. It took a lot of turns and twists in this labyrinth, just to shake her off my tail.

"I'm sorry!"

Even now, her voice occasionally resounds off the walls of the stone tunnels of the labyrinth. It almost makes me guilty hearing her desperate and lonely voice, should she not have dragged me into her… shenanigans.

Yes, that should be a proper term for it.

I walked to yet another dead end. I sighed, before turning around. This place was really getting really confusing, as there were countless tunnels that either led to more tunnels, led to a dead end, or even led to where I started from.

I walked to the right tunnel, only to end up to three more tunnels. I peeked into tunnel. It was dim, only barely lit from a single torch in the distant tunnel. A set of eight red glowing eyes told me of a Spider, and I hid myself from the corner to avoid being spotted.

Spiders have, in theory, four times the vision of a normal human—crafter. They _did_ have four times as much eyes as humans—crafters have. Occasionally, I would receive certain terms for labelling a crafter, such as 'human' or 'person'.

Thinking about them would only bring up even more words, possibly describing the words themselves. Dwelling about them even deeper isn't a good idea, actually, as it would _just_ bring in more words, and more words could repeat the chain again and again.

I shook my head, making all wandering and unnecessary thoughts disappear. I wanted to check the middle tunnel but there might be a chance that the spider would spot me. As much as possible, I'd avoid any confrontations that _might_ catch Peculiar_Purple's attention. The sound of footsteps are barely audible, but the noises of a hissing spider aren't.

I peeked over the corner again, seeing the spider facing away from my direction. I quickly cross the distance between the corners of the left tunnel to the middle tunnel.

The middle tunnel was brightly lit, and a wooden structure was located at the very end of the tunnel. A wooden door, along with wooden walls it seemed. The structure itself seemed to be in a state of disarray, as webs covered it.

I crossed to the right tunnel. As I peeked over the tunnel, as hand tapped on my back.

I leapt forwards as a response, instinctively drawing my sword. I sighed, shaking my head in dismay when I saw the one who tapped me. "You won't give up, don't you?" I said as I narrowed my eyes, gazing at her coldly.

Purple looked visibly mad, before she spoke. "I should be telling you that." She countered, annoyed. "I know that you hate me for dragging you into this mess, but being a bitch about it won't help." She grabbed her dagger from her belt.

Her position meant that she was only going to defend herself, should I make the first move.

There was a tense silence between us after she said that. We glared at each other, before I realized that I have been ignoring her, giving her the cold shoulder as well was rejecting her. That might have made her so upset. I was surprised she wasn't yelling at me yet, despite how I treated her.

My gaze at her softened. Even though she did dragged us to this problem, she was willing to try and help me get out…

Not many people would do that, I suppose.

I sighed, before I hung my diamond blade to my belt. "What is it that you think we should do?"

She looked at me, somewhat surprised. "W-what? Weren't you just mad about me just a second ago?" She asked, fingering the hems of her skirt while looking at the floor. "I mean, not that I hate it, but…" I raised my eyebrow, prompting her to continue with her speech. "Are you going to forgive me about it?"

"Probably." I said, shrugging. "I know that I wouldn't be able to bear a grudge on a crafter, unless they've done something that would really make me mad." I explained.

She raised her eyes to meet mine, before lighting up. "Would that mean… you'll forgive me now?"

"No." I said. She deflated, lowering her eyes once more to the ground. I let out a sigh as I saw her eyes start to water. "Well, I'll forgive you once we reach the surface, but until then, you'll have to help me get out."

She beamed happily, before she looked at the ground deflated once more. "But… I don't know where the exit is."

…

"I remember a friend once saying, 'Let's cross that bridge when we get to it'." I quoted Cerulean as a response. Although why was my Normalracy telling me that Cerulean was not the first to say that quote?

She extended out an arm, her palm open. "Friends?" She asked.

I shrugged. "Who am I to deny?" I reached out, and shook the proffered hand. "Friends." I replied. "Although, where should we head next?"

"How about… the right tunnel?" She said, before walking up to the tunnel.

"You're just… going to randomly pick directions, aren't you?" I said, deadpanning.

She didn't reply, only a slight reddening of her cheeks were somewhat a response.

 **~\~\~\~**

[Cerulean]

At just the west of the tall, central tower we met at earlier, I entered a bar casually, before choosing a seat right next to the bartender. "One Shirley Temple, un-distilled." I ordered.

The bartender looked at me skeptically. "You know that those kinds of Liquor don't exist in Minecraftia, right?"

I shrugged. "I didn't come here to drink, you know." I said to the bartender, before he raised an eyebrow and rested his shoulder at the counter. I looked up his head, and saw his name. _RadioHazard._

"Is this a favor or somethin'? 'Cuz the last guy who came in here for a favor nearly destroyed this place." He warned, his hand reaching below the counter.

I shook my head. "No, no. Nothing like that." I assured him.

"Well then, I'm listening."

I cleared my throat. "There's this guy I'm hunting for. Name's Monologue Master. Dressed in a red coat, with black hair and gray eyes which resemble are the same color as iron bars. Heard of him?"

RadioHazard scratched his thick beard, "Yeah, I'd heard of him. Good ol' 'Nary once spot him in a dark alley. Got knocked by a girl who stole a Tinkers', and 'Nary said that he heard similar to pistons before they got swallowed up into the ground."

I narrowed my eyes, silently demanding more information.

"Geez kiddo. You'll scare some of my customers with that look of yours."

"And where is this, 'Nary' guy at?"

"Oh, 'Nary? He's the toll guard at the northern gate. Most righteous and religious man I've ever seen."

I froze slightly at his words. "He… His name wouldn't be Nameless Missionary, isn't it?"

"Ah, I've seen you met 'Nary." He lowered his head, before gesturing me to do the same. He planted an elbow into the counter, gesturing me to come closer. "Although, just don't randomly say a word involving the word 'God', such as 'Oh my God', and you'll be fine. Rumors have it he faced the Angel of Death once, and managed to escape." RadioHazard whispered, before he chuckled. "Welp, good luck to you, kiddo."

 _Nameless Missionary, huh? I didn't see that coming._

 **~\~\~\~**

While walking toward the northern district of this outpost, I heard sounds and commotions happening in the northern market.

I walked to the source of the commotions, and with the yelling crafters and swapping of emeralds, I could tell it's a street brawl.

 _Such things could happen, and would be highly entertaining to people._ I thought to myself, just as I drew near the crowd.

I slip past some Crafters, excusing myself. I had to do a double take when I saw who were the ones involved in this brawl.

It was the person I was looking for. He still had his orange-cap, signifying he was still at his shift, but that didn't hint why he was around a few hundred yards from his post. Nor did it signify why he was currently trying to subdue a Jibberman.

"I arrest you for the illegal entry of this trading port." Nameless Missionary said, holding a lead and wrapping it around the larger Jibberman's neck.

"HRGKKK!" the Jibberman thrashed around wildly, while the missionary held on, pulling on his lead like reining in a large animal. Slowly but surely, the jibberman's movements slowly started to weaken, before finally stopping entirely.

He still held unto the lead, only stopping when there was only a heart left from being suffocated.

He sighed, before muttering something to himself which I couldn't quite catch.

He grabbed a firework from his belt. He launched it into the air, exploding into magnificent colors of orange and yellow.

 _It must be their Kingdom's colors._ I reasoned. Even though this is just a trading port or outpost, or whatever, it still technically belonged to Exter.

A few sighs of discontent sounded near me, as I heard emeralds clinking with each other, being collected in a hand.

I approached Missionary, who put on a smile upon seeing my name. "Well then," He said, before walking closer to my position. "What is a former king doing in this place?" He whispered amusedly.

I only raised an eyebrow as a response. "And why is a missionary playing as the hero?" I retorted, amused as well of his predicament.

We stared at each other, before he laughed. "Surely you jest." He said, before his expression turned to serious. "It's good to see you again, Lea—"

"I told you to stop using that name!" I snapped, before sighing. "Let's just get to the point, shall we?"

"Sure."

"You saw Monologue Master, haven't you?" I asked. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking me to imply more. "You saw him falling into the ground, in an alleyway, with redstone resounding?"

He looked around, before nodding. "You see, Cerulean, the place they fell on was a place rumored to be one of the outposts for the Endward Cult. I wouldn't go there if I were you." He spoke seriously.

"Well, I don't care for rumors. Whether or not you managed to escape from the Angel of Death's grasp, you're going to tell me where that alleyway is."

"You as well have met her, haven't you?" I flashed a grin at his accusation. "Well then, as a fellow survivor whom God have preserved from the reaper, I shall tell you where it is." He said, before a few orange-capped guards approached and tied the unconscious Jibberman's hands.

"What's up with the Divine proclamations?" I muttered. "I'll just follow you, won't I?"

"If only things are as simple as that, actually." He sighed deeply, before a grin flashed on his face. "I figured it might be a good way to troll against the Endward Cult, whom has absolutely no respect for Human life."

I felt a smile occur across my face. "When did the 'Missionary' start to make others' lives miserable?"

He flashed a grin, before he replied. "Oh you'd be surprised at the things I did that would strip me of the title, 'Missionary'."

After a few minutes of thinking whether or not I should bring Dark and Sand, I felt it was unnecessary to bring them, for some reasons perfectly justified.

First, if we were in fact going to a Cult base, then it would be extremely dangerous for the both of them.

Second, Sand could provide a good distraction, but he would possibly distract us as well.

Third, even if I bring Dark, he would most likely refuse if Sand wouldn't come along.

So I decided to just leave them running in the streets, possibly calling out Mono's name and mine after the hour passes.

 **~\~\~\~**

We entered another bar, with Missionary taking a seat just next to the bartender.

"Stay here, and don't do anything that might be considered dangerous." He said, before he leaned in closer to the bartender's ear, before whispering something.

The bartender nodded, before he opened a hatch from the counter. Missionary flicked a lever just situated below the counter, and small opening was created, just small enough for a person to crawl through.

"Come on." Missionary assured me, gesturing me to follow him into the tunnel.

I followed him, and we walked in the narrow and cramped space.

"Where are we going?" I asked, just as we passed the single torch which barely illuminated the tunnel.

"To another entrance to the cult outpost." Missionary replied, "You might want to brace your eyes, or something." He said cryptically, before opening a dark-oak wooden door.

Light rushes into my vision, and the cramped tunnel was gone, replaced by a fairly large room, with a ladder in the middle leading downwards.

"Where did you get that secret code?" I asked, just as Missionary started to climb downwards in the tunnel.

"A cultist thought that by telling me the passcode to their base, he could be spared." He replied evenly, descending two rungs at a time.

I followed after him, equally managing to descend at the same rate.

"… It's obvious what happened to him, isn't it?" I asked, although the answer was evident.

There was a silence between us, before he answered. "Yes."

"What made you hate the Cultists?" I asked. He looked at me, then I realized the stupidity of my question. "Oh. They killed someone important to you, haven't they?"

"No, no. Not at all." My eyebrow raised in question. "I'm a missionary, a preacher of God. It is against my morals to let a group of people kill people so carelessly."

I kept silent after that. We all had our own reasons to hating the cult, although his wasn't similar to many people.

"I often dreamed of a peaceful world, where everyone is happy." He said, before sighing. "Surely it's impossible, isn't it?"

"I won't criticize your dream. I have my own too, you know." I replied.

"But mine is just blatantly impossible." He countered, before sighing deeply.

He kept to himself afterwards, being silent.

The rest of the descending had been tense and silent, along with being slightly awkward.

We finally reached the bottom of the ladder. It was another room, well-lit by torches hung on the walls. "Well, here we are." He said, before pointing to a door across the room. He started walking towards it, as I followed him. "You might want to arm yourself." He said, just as we were in front of the dark-oak door.

He grabbed another lead from his belt, before holding the doorknob. I grabbed my Longsword, holding it in the stance I was most familiar with.

Missionary opened the door, looking around, before he sweat-dropped. "There isn't anyone here…"

He was right. Just behind the door, was a large room that could easily hold a hundred crafters. It was empty and barren, cobwebs placed on the corners of the room.

The tables were flipped, and there were some bottles in brewing stands, collecting dust. Atleast, it was still well-lit by Glowstones hanging on the ceilings, as chandeliers.

"So, this place is abandoned?" I asked, to which Missionary nodded.

"There goes my plan to troll the cult." Missionary said, before shrugging.

I observed the room, before I saw an opened door. I walked towards it, before being greeted by a tunnel, before the tunnel split up to three more tunnels. "Hey Missionary, I found tunnels."

He ran towards me, looking at the tunnel. He whistled. "Well, I'm impressed, actually. Who knew there was a mineshaft just below the Outpost?"

I walked forwards, peering into the right tunnel. It was dark, only lit in the corner by a single torch. Eight crimson eyes looked back at me, before I realized it was a Spider.

I ran to it, before it looked at me and hissing—but at that point, it was too late anyway. It took just one, well-placed hit to kill it in a single, swift flick of my blade.

Missionary whistled, impressed. "Now that is a Tinkers' Exclusive, isn't it?"

I nodded. "While I could describe how I got it, we have to find Monologue Master first."

"But of course."

 **~\~\~\~**

[Dark]

"Dude, are you sure it's a good idea to stalk Cerulean?" Sand asked, just as I shoved his head down as Cerulean glanced dangerously near to our position.

"If you keep quiet, then this _would_ be a good idea." I hissed, hoping that he wouldn't retort with a sarcastic, and not to mention, loud reply.

"Okay, sheesh. Fine, I'll keep quiet." He murmured. I silently prayed to whatever god is out there for their divine interference.

I peeked over the bench we were hiding on. I felt Sand stand up to peek as well. Cerulean and… ("Is that the toll guard we encountered earlier?") walking inside a bar. In the window, I could see them conversing with a crafter, before they were let in a dark tunnel.

The entrance to the tunnel was closed just slightly afterwards. I could feel Sand's disappointment.

"Darn. Now are we supposed to get in?" He asked dejectedly.

"Hmm…" I scratched my head, thinking of a solution. I looked at the alleyway just next to the bar, before seeing something made out of Iron. An idea popped in my head. "You see something iron in that alley?" I asked, to which Sand nodded in response. "I think that there's an entrance there."

Sand nodded, flashing a thumbs-up. Just as he stood up, on the corner of my vision, I saw a familiar face—one that I didn't want to particularly see.

I pulled Sand downwards to avoid getting spot. "Why—?!" I covered his mouth, if to prevent him from screaming. I let go of him, before pointing at our past assailant. "What? What on Earth is he doing here?!" He demanded silently.

"I don't know either." I responded quietly as well. We watched the crafter walk down the alley, before he pulled something in the ground, and disappeared shortly after.

After a few minutes of waiting, I stood up. "I think we should check it out." I said. "If that crafter disappeared, then surely there must be something wrong with the alley." Sand nodded, looking at me expectantly. "What? You want me to go first?" I guessed, before I sighed while palming my face.

"Of course. You did spawn before I did, haven't you?" He asked with a smirk, and I realized that he wouldn't ever go first. Ever.

I let out a frustrated sigh, before walking to the alley. There was a staircase, along with a lever of sorts. Beside the lever was a door made of iron, or something like that.

"Do you think we should flick the lever?" Sand asked, suddenly appearing next to the lever. "I mean, it would also make us disappear, wouldn't it?"

"Well, there's one way to find out." I said, walking to the lever. "Go."

Sand flicked the lever downwards, and a set of clicks resounded, before being followed by silence… and a final click.

Wind whipped past my face, and I realized that we were falling.

* * *

Inventory:

 **Monologue_Master** : Iron Helmet, Diamond Chestplate, Iron Leggings, Iron Boots, Diamond Sword, 3 Golden Carrots, 3 Steak, 1 Speed Potion (3:00), 1 Regeneration Potion (2:00), 3 Red Sand, 5 Hardened Clay, 1 Water Bottle, 9 Arrows, Bow {Damaged}

 **Peculiar_Purple** : Iron Dagger, Leather Chestplate {Purple-dyed}, Leather Leggings {Black-dyed}, 10 Cooked Porkchops, Potion of Swiftness II (1:30), Splash Potion of Poison II (0:22)

 **Light_Illusi0n** : Iron Axe { _Dream Smasher,_ Sharpness IV, Fire Aspect I}, Golden Helmet {Projectile Projection IV, Unbreaking III}, Iron Chestplate{Unbreaking II, Fire Protection II}, Iron Leggings {Protection I}, Chainmail Boots {Feather Falling I, Protection III}, Potion of Swiftness II (1:30), Splash Potion of Poison II (0:22), Splash Potion of Poison II (0:22), Splash Potion of Poison II (0:22), Splash Potion of Weakness (1:30), Splash Potion of Weakness (1:30), Splash Potion of Slowness (1:30), Splash Potion of Slowness (1:30), 30 Steak

* * *

 _ **So basically… Almost everyone's perspectives are now being written. Except for the antagonist. Almost never the Antagonist, because he basically is my dark-side. And I absolutely**_ **hate** _ **my dark side.**_

 _ **Review, reply, PM me or something. I'm getting lonely in this website :/**_


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